The Nations and the Secrets
by TheSapphireRainAlchemist
Summary: Sequal to two brothers;Two nations. The Chamber is back. Seems like History is repeating itself. Can the Nations Get through another year with out thier secret being found out? How long can they keep it up? *No pairings, I can't write it to safe my life*
1. Sneak peak

I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR HETALIA

Yes! Here it is~!

America's POV.

Ever since they returned from their mission England seemed uneasy. It was easy to tell England didn't trust Dumbledore, but Alfred saw nothing wrong with the headmaster.

"Reckless I tell you." England told Canada once, "To want a child, a first year, to go through something like that, lesson or no lesson."

"I'm glad nothing bad happened." Canada said in his usual whisper.

England sighed, "But if that's Dumbledore's way of thinking, Harry will end up dealing with something like that again!"

"No worries dude! Harry`s great backup! He'll be fine!" Alfred said happily.

England took a sip of his tea and looked at the two boys on his couch, "I just don't approve of his method."

America suddenly sat up straight, earning a raised eyebrow from both Canada and England.

"Dude! That school is pretty awesome, minus the ghosts," Alfred shivered, "I wouldn't mind going on another mission!"

England looked a bit surprised, "Well, I guess it would work, no one would be suspicious if you went again, and they might be if you didn't go back."

"Really eh?" Canada asked.

"AWESOME!" Alfred fist pumped the air.

"I CAN GET SOME REVENGE- I mean spread democracy." Alfred finished.

England sighed, again, "I suppose it would be best to take extra precautions this time, with what's been going on lately I wouldn't be surprised if anything else happened, by the way what happened to the philosophers stone?"

America and Canada tensed.

England looked at them suspiciously.

"eh…aboot that… It kind of…" Canada began.

"Broke." America finished.

England just stared at them, blankly.

A few seconds went by,

A few moments went by,

A minute went by, and England finally said something, hoping he heard wrong. "what?"

"It-" Canada began.

"Broke." America finished again.

England did not say anything, he left the room and went to his basement.

"Do you think he'll be alright?" Canada asked.

"I thin-" America began but was interrupted by a stream of curses (Not the magic kind) And language that should never be heard, coming from the former pirate downstairs.

"Not." America finished.

England came back upstairs, he looked a little red, probably from shouting, he then sat down and sipped his tea.

"Uh? Iggy?" America asked, but England ignored him, still trying to calm down.

"What. Happened. To. The. Stone?"

"It-"

"I. Know. It. Broke." England stated.

"Well we only know it got destroyed so Moldy shorts couldn't get it." America replied.

"Moldy shorts?" England asked, as soon as he asked he realized what America had said, "Voldemort was after the stone? That's something you should have told me a month ago!"

"HAHAHA~! Don't worry it-." America began.

"No! If he went after the stone, he's going to want revenge for not getting it! If he got into the school once, I'm sure he could do it again if he wanted!" England shouted putting down his earl grey tea.

He then sighed, "You two, if you still want, will go to Hogwarts again, keep an eye for anything suspicious."

England then gave a pirate smirk.

"With a little help, of course."

End chapter~! Like last time this is just a quick sneak peak at what I've got, other chapters will of course be longer~!


	2. Chapter two: Ties to the company

I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTEER OR HETALIA

Harry's POV.

Not for the first time, an argument had broken out over breakfast at number four, Privet Drive. Mr. Vernon Dursley had been woken in the early hours of the morning by a loud, hooting noise from his nephew Harry's room.

"Third time this week!" he roared across the table. "If you can't control that owl, it'll have to go!"

Harry tried, yet again, to explain. "She's bored," he said. "She's used to flying around outside. If I could just let her out at night-"

"Do I look stupid?" snarled Uncle Vernon, a bit of fried egg dangling from his bushy mustache. "I know what'll happen if that owl's let out." He exchanged dark looks with his wife, Petunia.

Harry tried to argue back but his words were drowned by a long, loud belch from the Dursleys' son, Dudley. "I want more bacon."

"There's more in the frying pan, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia, turning misty eyes on her massive son.

"We must build you up while we've got the chance... I don't like the sound of that school food..."

"Nonsense, Petunia, I never went hungry when I was at Smeltings," said Uncle Vernon heartily. "Dud-ley gets enough, don't you, son?"

Dudley, who was so large his bottom drooped over either side of the kitchen chair, grinned and turned to Harry. "Pass the frying pan."

"You've forgotten the magic word," said Harry irritably. The effect of this simple sentence on the rest of the family was incredible: Dudley gasped and fell off his chair with a crash that shook the whole kitchen; Mrs. Dursley gave a small scream and clapped her hands to her mouth; Mr. Dursley jumped to his feet, veins throbbing in his temples.

"I meant "please"!" said Harry quickly. "I didn't mean-"

"WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU," thundered his uncle, spraying spit over the table, "ABOUT SAYING THE "M"WORD IN OUR HOUSE?"

"But I-"

"HOW DARE YOU THREATEN DUDLEY!" roared Uncle Vernon, pounding the table with his fist.

"I just-"

"I WARNED YOU! I WILL NOT TOLERATE MENTION OF YOUR ABNORMALITY UNDER THIS ROOF!"

Harry stared from his purple-faced uncle to his pale aunt, who was trying to heave Dudley to his feet.

"All right," said Harry, "all right... "

Uncle Vernon sat back down, breathing like a winded rhinoceros and watching Harry closely out of the corners of his small, sharp eyes. Ever since Harry had come home for the summer holidays, Uncle Vernon had been treating him like a bomb that might go off at any moment, because Harry Potter wasn't a normal boy. As a matter of fact, he was as not normal as it is possible to be. Harry Potter was a wizard-a wizard fresh from his first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And if the Dursleys were unhappy to have him back for the holidays, it was nothing to how Harry felt. He missed Hogwarts so much it was like having a constant stomach ache. He missed the castle, with its secret passageways and ghosts, which one of his friends was probably very happy to be away from, his classes (though perhaps not Snape, the Potions master), the mail arriving by owl, eating banquets in the Great Hall, sleeping in his four-poster bed in the tower dormitory, visiting the gamekeeper, Hagrid, in his cabin next to the Forbidden Forest in the grounds, and, especially, Quidditch, the most popular sport in the wizarding world (six tall goal posts, four flying balls, and fourteen players on broomsticks).

All Harry's spell books, his wand, robes, cauldron, and top-of-the-line Nimbus Two Thousand broom-stick had been locked in a cupboard under the stairs by Uncle Vernon the instant Harry had come home. What did the Dursleys care if Harry lost his place on the House Quidditch team because he hadn't practiced all summer? What was it to the Dursleys if Harry went back to school without any of his homework done?

The Dursleys were what wizards called Muggles (not a drop of magical blood in their veins), and as far as they were concerned, having a wizard in the family was a matter of deepest shame. Uncle Vernon had even padlocked Harry's owl, Hedwig, inside her cage, to stop her from carrying messages to anyone in the wizarding world. Harry looked nothing like the rest of the family. Uncle Vernon was large and neck less, with an enormous black mustache; Aunt Petunia was horse-faced and bony; Dudley was blond, pink, and porky.

Harry, on the other hand, was small and skinny, with brilliant green eyes and jet-black hair that was al-ways untidy. He wore round glasses, and on his forehead was a thin, lightning-shaped scar. It was this scar that made Harry so particularly unusual, even for a wizard. This scar was the only hint of Harry's very mysterious past, of the reason he had been left on the Dursleys' doorstep eleven years before. At the age of one year old, Harry had somehow survived a curse from the greatest Dark sorcerer of all time, Lord Voldemort, whose name most witches and wizards still feared to speak. Harry's parents had died in Voldemort's attack, but Harry had escaped with his lightning scar, and somehow-nobody understood why Voldemort's powers had been destroyed the instant he had failed to kill Harry. So Harry had been brought up by his dead mother's sister and her husband.

He had spent ten years with the Dursleys, never understanding why he kept making odd things happen without meaning to, believing the Dursleys' story that he had got his scar in the car crash that had killed his parents. And then, exactly a year ago, Hogwarts had written to Harry, and the whole story had come out. Harry had taken up his place at wizard school, where he and his scar were famous... But now the school year was over, and he was back with the Dursleys for the summer, back to being treated like a dog that had rolled in something smelly.

The Dursleys hadn't even remembered that today happened to be Harry's twelfth birthday. Of course, his hopes hadn't been high; they'd never given him a real present, let alone a cake-but to ignore it completely... At that moment, Uncle Vernon cleared his throat importantly and said, "Now, as we all know, today is a very important day."

Harry looked up, hardly daring to believe it.

"This could well be the day I make the biggest deal of my career," said Uncle Vernon. Harry went back to his toast. Of course, he thought bitterly, Uncle Vernon was talking about the stupid dinner party. He'd been talking of nothing else for two weeks. Some rich builder, wife and representative with ties to the company, were coming to dinner and Uncle Vernon was hoping to get a huge order from him (Uncle Vernon's company made drills).

"I think we should run through the schedule one more time," said Uncle Vernon. "We should all be in position at eight o'clock. Petunia, you will be -?"

"In the lounge," said Aunt Petunia promptly, "waiting to welcome them graciously to our home. "

"Good, good. And Dudley?"

"I'll be waiting to open the door." Dudley put on a foul, simpering smile. "May I take your coats, Mr. And Mrs. Mason, Mr. Kirkland?" (Hahaha, this won't be good.)

"They'll love him!" cried Aunt Petunia rapturously.

"Excellent, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon. Then he rounded on Harry. "And you?"

"I'll be in my bedroom, making no noise and pretending I'm not there," said Harry tonelessly.

"Exactly," said Uncle Vernon nastily. "I will lead them into the lounge, introduce you, Petunia, and pour them drinks. At eight fifteen-"

"I'll announce dinner," said Aunt Petunia. "And, Dudley, you'll say-"

"May I take you through to the dining room, Mrs. Mason?" said Dudley, offering his fat arm to an in-visible woman. "My perfect little gentleman!" sniffed Aunt Petunia.

"And you?" said Uncle Vernon viciously to Harry.

"I'll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I'm not there," said Harry dully.

"Precisely. Now, we should aim to get in a few good compliments at dinner. Petunia, any ideas?"

"Vernon tells me you're a wonderful golfer, Mr. Mason... Do tell me where you bought your dress, Mrs. Mason... You do so much hard work from what I've heard, Mr. Kirkland…"

"Perfect... Dudley?"

"How about: "We had to write an essay about our hero at school, Mr. Mason, and I wrote about you "

This was too much for both Aunt Petunia and Harry. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and hugged her son, while Harry ducked under the table so they wouldn't see him laughing.

"And you, boy?" Harry fought to keep his face straight as he emerged. "I'll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I'm not there," he said.

"Too right, you will," said Uncle Vernon forcefully. "The Masons and Mr. Kirkland don't know anything about you and it's going to stay that way. When dinner's over, you take Mrs. Mason back to the lounge for coffee, Petunia, and I'll bring the subject around to drills. With any luck, I'll have the deal signed and sealed before the News at Ten. We'll be shopping for a vacation home in Majorca this time tomorrow."

Harry couldn't feel too excited about this. He didn't think the Dursleys would like him any better in Majorca than they did on Privet Drive.

"Right-I'm off into town to pick up the dinner jackets for Dudley and me. And you," he snarled at Harry.

"You stay out of your aunt's way while she's cleaning."

Harry left through the back door. It was a brilliant, sunny day. He crossed the lawn, slumped down on the garden bench, and sang under his breath: "Happy birthday to me... Happy birthday to me…"

No cards, no presents, and he would be spending the evening pretending not to exist. He gazed miserably into the hedge. He had never felt so lonely. More than anything else at Hogwarts, more even than playing Quidditch, Harry missed his best friends, Ron Weasley, Alfred Jones and Hermione Granger. AND Matthew he reminded himself. They, how-ever, didn't seem to be missing him at all. Neither of them had written to him all summer, even though Ron had said he was going to ask Harry to come and stay. Countless times, Harry had been on the point of unlocking Hedwig's cage by magic and sending her to Ron and Hermione with a letter, but it wasn't worth the risk. Underage wizards weren't allowed to use magic outside of school. Harry hadn't told the Dursleys this; he knew it was only their terror that he might turn them all into dung beetles that stopped them from locking him in the cupboard under the stairs with his wand and broomstick.

For the first couple of weeks back, Harry had enjoyed muttering nonsense words under his breath and watching Dudley tearing out of the room as fast as his fat legs would carry him. But the long silence from Ron, Alfred, Matthew and Hermione had made Harry feel so cut off from the magical world that even taunting Dudley had lost its appeal-and now Ron and Hermione had forgotten his birthday even Alfred and Matthew forgot, He didn't see Matthew as the forgetting type. What wouldn't he give now for a message from Hogwarts? From any witch or wizard?

He'd almost be glad of a sight of his arch enemy, Draco Malfoy; just to be sure it hadn't all been a dream... Not that his whole year at Hogwarts had been fun. At the very end of last term, Harry had come face-to-face with none other than Lord Voldemort himself. Voldemort might be a ruin of his former self, but the was still terrifying, still cunning, still determined to regain power. Harry had slipped through Voldemort's clutches for a second time, but it had been a narrow escape, and even now, weeks later, Harry kept waking in the night, drenched in cold sweat, wondering where Voldemort was now, remembering his livid face, his wide, mad eyes... Harry suddenly sat bolt upright on the garden bench. He had been staring absent-mindedly into the hedge-and the hedge was staring back. Two enormous green eyes had appeared among the leaves. Harry jumped to his feet just as a jeering voice floated across the lawn.

"I know what day it is," sang Dudley, waddling toward him. The huge eyes blinked and vanished.

"What?" said Harry, not taking his eyes off the spot where they had been.

"I know what day it is," Dudley repeated, coming right up to him.

"Well done, " said Harry. "So you've finally learned the days of the week. "

"Today's your birthday," sneered Dudley. "How come you haven't got any cards? Haven't you even got friends at that freak place?"

"Better not let your mums hear you talking about my school," said Harry coolly.

Dudley hitched up his trousers, which were slipping down his fat bottom. "Why're you staring at the hedge?" he said suspiciously.

"I'm trying to decide what would be the best spell to set it on fire," said Harry. Dudley stumbled backward at once, a look of panic on his fat face. "You c-can't-Dad told you you're not to do m-magic-he said he'll chuck you out of the house—and you haven't got anywhere else to go-you haven't got any friends to take you-"

"Jiggery pokery!" said Harry in a fierce voice. "Hocus pocus squiggly wiggly-"

"MUUUUUUM!" howled Dudley, tripping over his feet as he dashed back toward the house. "MUUUUM! He's doing you know what!"

Harry paid dearly for his moment of fun. As neither Dudley nor the hedge was in any way hurt, Aunt Petunia knew he hadn't really done magic, but he still had to duck as she aimed a heavy blow at his head with the soapy frying pan. Then she gave him work to do, with the promise he wouldn't eat again until he'd finished. While Dudley lolled around watching and eating ice cream, Harry cleaned the windows, washed the car, mowed the lawn, trimmed the flowerbeds, pruned and watered the roses, and repainted the gar-den bench. The sun blazed overhead, burning the back of his neck. Harry knew he shouldn't have risen to Dudley's bait, but Dudley had said the very thing Harry had been thinking himself... Maybe he didn't have any friends at Hogwarts... Wish they could see famous Harry Potter now, he thought savagely as he spread manure on the flowerbeds, his back aching, sweat running down his face.

It was half past seven, in the evening when at last, exhausted, he heard Aunt Petunia calling him. "Get in here! And walk on the newspaper!"

Harry moved gladly into the shade of the gleaming kitchen. On top of the fridge stood tonight's pudding: a huge mound of whipped cream and sugared violets. A loin of roast pork was sizzling in the oven.

"Eat quickly! The Masons and Kirkland will be here soon!" snapped Aunt Petunia, pointing to two slices of bread and a lump of cheese on the kitchen table. She was already wearing a salmon-pink cocktail dress. Harry washed his hands and bolted down his pitiful supper. The moment he had finished, Aunt Petunia whisked away his plate. "Upstairs! Hurry!"

As he passed the door to the living room, Harry caught a glimpse of Uncle Vernon and Dudley in bowties and dinner jackets. He had only just reached the upstairs landing when the doorbell rang and Uncle Vernon's furious face appeared at the foot of the stairs. "Remember, boy-one sound... "

Harry crossed to his bedroom on tiptoe slipped inside, closed the door, and turned to collapse on his bed. The trouble was, there was already someone sitting on it.

Hahaha I wonder what the representative with ties to the company by the name of Kirkland will think…


	3. Chapter three: Getting started

Plan Set

I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTEER OR HETALIA

Arthur Kirkland's POV.

Arthur was almost positive he heard the name Dudley before, but he put that out of his mind as he walked to number four, Privet drive. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something important about that place.

As he approached the door he dusted himself off, First impressions were always good.

"Hello Mr. Kirkland? May I take your coat?" A young chubby boy asked opening the door.

Arthur gave a kind laugh, "Thank you but I haven't got a coat." It was obvious they wanted to make good impressions as well, the house was sparkling clean, no dust in site. The Women, Mrs. Dursley, Had a cocktail dress and the two men both wore tuxedos and bowties. Arthur saw the Masons' on the couch.

"Good to see you again Mrs. Mason, Mr. Mason." Arthur greeted as Mrs. Dursley showed him to the living room.

"Good to see you as well Mr. Kirkland." Mr. Mason replied.

"Tell Petunia that very funny story about those American plumbers, Mr. Mason. She's been dying to hear... " Mr. Dursley said, trying to get on their good sides.

'American Plumbers'? Arthur couldn't help but think, he imagined A million America's all shouting, "IM THE HERO! I CAN FIX ANY LEAK HAHAHA~!"

'Oh hell no.'

There was a loud thumping from upstairs.

Arthur raised a bushy eyebrow, "There something wrong up there?" He asked.

"No, it's just the cat; I'll go see what it needs." Mr. Dursley said, but Arthur knew it was a lie.

"What's its name?" Arthur asked Mrs. Dursley

"…Larry." She answered.

Arthur tried not to raise an eyebrow.

"So Mr. Kirkland, What do you do for your Job?" Mrs. Dursley asked, changing the subject.

"I try to keep ties with all the local business." Arthur answered shrugging.

"What Job is that for?" Dudley asked curiously.

"I guess you could say I work for the government." Arthur said shrugging again, he almost laughed at their reactions, the masons already knew but Mr. Dursley had just got back and his mouth was hanging open, Dudley looked clueless and Mrs. Dursley looked shocked.

"Did I say something wrong?" Arthur asked innocently.

"No, no, sorry about that." Mr. Dursley said quickly, "Wasn't expecting that" Arthur heard him mutter.

There was a loud sound from the kitchen and Arthur jumped about a foot of the couch. Mr. Dursley went to the kitchen, Arthur followed saying, "I'll help clean up whatever fell."

In the kitchen was a boy and something clicked inside Arthur's head before he could stop himself he said, "Hello Harry."

The boy covered in pudding was shocked, he didn't know this guy, and Mr. Dursley looked like he was going to blow a fuse.

"H-How do you know our nephew?" He asked trying to sound kind.

Arthur raised an eyebrow, "My son's friend went to Hogwarts with him." He lied in a low voice so only the two could hear, he had to be careful or he could ruin his part of the mission.

Mr. Dursley looked as if he'd had a heart attack.

"Who's your son's friend?" Harry couldn't help to ask, it looked quite funny, the boy was covered head to toe in pudding.

"Alfred and Matthew of course." Arthur said smiling.

"Well, I best be off, cheerio!" Arthur said leaving, as the Dursleys convinced the shocked Masons out.

Hopefully that meeting wouldn't raise Harry's suspicions… Too much, and luckily, no one knew his first name. That was quite important to the mission. Arthur couldn't help but chuckle about the whole meeting; he knew that house was important. But the Dursleys didn't seem too happy about magic, or anything to do with magic anyway.

Once he got home and opened the door he was shocked.

"Bloody frog! What are you doing here?" Arthur, known as England shouted.

"The back window was unlocked." France shrugged casually.

"I also couldn't help but notice your bags were packed…" France trailed off, trying to get answers.

"I'm going on a trip!" England huffed.

"Where to?" France asked.

"None of your business frog!" England said.

"Can I come?" France asked curiously.

"What?" England asked shocked.

"can I come?" France asked again.

"Bloody hell! You don't even know whe-!" England began.

"Hogwarts?" France cut off.

"How the bloody hell did you know?" England asked, honestly curious.

"I have a magic school to you know." France started.

"And America tells me about a mission." France finished.

"I'm going to regret this." England sighed, but in all truth, he could use all the help he could get.

"Ohononon~!"

"Shut up!"

*A few days later*

"Alright! Everyone in the circle! Don't smudge the lines!" England commanded as America, Canada, France and himself stepped inside.

"Santo Rita Meeta Meta, Ringo Jonah Tito Marlin, Jack Latoya Janet Michael Dumbledora the Explorer…Santo Rita Meeta Meta, Ringo Jonah Tito Marlin, Jack Latoya Janet Michael Dumbledora the Explorer…Now! I command you! Shrink!" England chanted.

There was a flash of bright light and England, America, France and Canada were all looking like 12 year olds.

"Alright!" England said.

"Off to Diagon alley!" England said.

"Where?" America and Canada asked at the same time.

"Oh yeah, I went to get your supplies last time…"

The group of four made their way to Diagon alley.

"Alright ame- Alfred, what's on the list?" The twelve year old Arthur asked.

_**SECOND-YEAR STUDENTS WILL REQUIRE:**_

_**The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 by Miranda Goshawk **_

_**Break with a Banshee by Gilderoy Lockhart **_

_**Gadding with Ghouls by Gilderoy Lockhart **_

_**Holidays with Hags by Gilderoy Lockhart**_

_**Travels with Trolls by Gilderoy Lockhart **_

_**Voyages with Vampires by Gilderoy Lockhart**_

_**Wanderings with Werewolves by Gilderoy Lockhart**_

_**Year with the Yeti by Gilderoy Lockhart **_

"Uhhh? Someone thinks a lot of themselves, no? Francis asked.

"Your one to talk." Arthur muttered.

"At least I have a reason to~ with my amazing charm~!" Francis continued.

"What does out lists' say Francis?" Arthur asked changing the subject.

"We have to get the necessities first- like a wand and such." Francis said.

■_**Three Sets of Plain Work Robes (Black) **_

■_**One Plain Pointed Hat (Black) for day wear **_

■_**One Pair of Protective Gloves (dragon hide or similar) **_

■_**One Winter Cloak (Black, silver fastenings) **_

■_**Please note that all students' clothes should carry name-tags. **_

_**Books**_

■_**The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk **_

■_**A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot **_

■_**Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling **_

■_**A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch **_

■_**One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore **_

■_**Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger **_

■_**Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander **_

■_**The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble **_

■_**Other Equipment **_

■_**1 Wand **_

■_**1 Cauldron (pewter, standard size 2) **_

■_**1 set of glass or crystal phials **_

■_**1 telescope **_

■_**1 set of brass scales **_

■_**Students may also bring an Owl OR a Cat OR a Toad. **_

■_**PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS.**_

"Alright I already have my wand." Arthur said proudly.

"The one with the star on it?" Alfred asked.

"Yes."

Francis and Alfred exchanged a look.

"Okay- I and Mattie will get our second year crap, and you guys get you first year." Alfred began directing the group.

Francis and Arthur

Francis and Arthur walked into the robe store, getting themselves fitted and getting there robes, Francis insisted they go for wands, even though Arthur already had one and once they got to Ollivanders Francis took Arthur's wand and asked if it was real.

"What kind of wand is that?" Ollivander said. "Looks like a toy." Ollivander did not see Arthur's shocked look.

"Why don't you take a look at this, a walnut wand? It is just shy of ten and three quarters inches long. This wand's core is centaur tail hair." Ollivander said, giving Arthur the wand, taking it back a minute later, "No, no, that won't do."

"How about Royal oak, eleven inches, Unicorn hair?" Ollivander asked giving Arthur another wand.

Arthur waved the wand and blue, white and red sparks flew out.

*Time skip*

"Rosewood, ten inches Veela hair." Ollivander said giving France his 10th wand, which finally worked.

They then headed to the pet store.

Both France and England got there national birds, it was surprising no one noticed Matthews bear and Alfred's hawk all last year.

With Alfred and Matthew

Alfred and Matthew headed to the bookstore, the only place they needed to go, however it took them a while to get there, they kept getting lost.

"See Mattie! I told you we weren't lost, only taking a detour!" Alfred said loudly as they went into the book store.

"Eh…sure." Matthew sighed.

"We can actually meet him!" a familiar voice squealed. Matthew and Alfred walked slowly backwards out of the store.

"Hey dudes!" Alfred greeted.

"Hi guys!" Matthew whisper/yelled.

"Hey Alfred, Matthew!" The trio headed over.

"Our you excited aboot Gilderoy Lockhart?" Matthew asked, referring to the squeal.

"HAHAHA~! It's about not aboot." Alfred interrupted.

"I mean, he's written almost the whole booklist!" Hermione continued on.

The crowd seemed to be made up mostly of witches around Mrs. Weasley's age. A harassed-looking wizard stood at the door, saying, "Calmly, please, ladies... Don't push, there... Mind the books, now..."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione squeezed inside. A long line wound right to the back of the shop, where Gilderoy Lockhart was signing his books.

Sorry I'm cutting it short here, I want to post this before I head over to my grandma's for mother's day.

HAPPY MOTHERS DAY~!


	4. Chapter four: The new group

I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR HETALIA

Harry's POV.

They each grabbed a copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 and sneaked up the line to where the rest of the Weasleys were standing with Mr. And Mrs. Granger.

"Oh, there you are, good, " said Mrs. Weasley. She sounded breathless and kept patting her hair.

"We'll be able to see him in a minute..."

"I don't see what's so good about this guy." Alfred pouted from lack of attention.

Gilderoy Lockhart came slowly into view, seated at a table surrounded by large pictures of his own face, all winking and flashing dazzlingly white teeth at the crowd. The real Lockhart was wearing robes of forget-me-not blue that exactly matched his eyes; his pointed wizard's hat was set at a jaunty angle on his wavy hair.

A short, irritable-looking man was dancing around taking photographs with a large black camera that emitted puffs of purple smoke with every blinding flash. "Out of the way, there," he snarled at Ron, moving back to get a better shot. "This is for the Daily Prophet-"

"Big deal," said Ron, rubbing his foot where the photographer had stepped on it.

Gilderoy Lockhart heard him. He looked up. He saw Ron and then he saw Harry. He stared. Then he leapt to his feet and positively shouted, "It can't be Harry Potter?"

The crowd parted, whispering excitedly; Lockhart dived forward, seized Harry's arm, and pulled him to the front. The crowd burst into applause. Harry's face burned as Lockhart shook his hand for the photographer, who was clicking away madly, wafting thick smoke over the Weasleys. "Nice big smile, Harry," said Lockhart, through his own gleaming teeth. "Together, you and I are worth the front page."

"He's a bit more full of himself then we thought, no?" a French accent came from the crowd, Harry didn't think Lockhart had heard him.

"Bloody hell- Lockhart's' worse than you!" Another voice said.

When he finally let go of Harry's hand, Harry could hardly feel his fingers. He tried to sidle back over to the Weasleys, but Lockhart threw an arm around his shoulders and clamped him tightly to his side.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said loudly, waving for quiet. "What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time!"

When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography -which I shall be happy to present him now, free of charge-" The crowd applauded again.

"He had no idea," Lockhart continued, giving Harry a little shake that made his glasses slip to the end of his nose, "that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book, Magical Me. He and his school mates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

The crowd cheered and clapped and Harry found himself being presented with the entire works of Gilderoy Lockhart. Staggering slightly under their weight, he managed to make his way out of the lime-light to the edge of the room, where Ginny was standing next to her new cauldron.

"You have these," Harry mumbled to her, tipping the books into the cauldron.

"I'll buy my own-"

"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" said a voice Harry had no trouble recognizing. He straightened up and found himself face-to-face with Draco Malfoy, who was wearing his usual sneer.

"Famous Harry Potter," said Malfoy. "Can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page. "

"Leave him alone, he didn't want all that!" said Ginny. It was the first time she had spoken in front of Harry. She was glaring at Malfoy.

"Potter, you've got yourself a girlfriend!" drawled Malfoy. Ginny went scarlet as Ron and Hermione fought their way over, both clutching stacks of Lockhart's books.

"Oh, it's you," said Ron, looking at Malfoy as if he were something unpleasant on the sole of his shoe. Alfred and Matthew where talking to two others and didn't seem to notice.

"Bet you're surprised to see Harry here, eh?" Ron said,

"Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley," retorted Malfoy. "I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for all those." Ron went as red as Ginny. He dropped his books into the cauldron, too, and started toward Malfoy, but Harry and Hermione grabbed the back of his jacket.

"Ron!" said Mr. Weasley, struggling over with Fred and George. "What are you doing? It's too crowded in here, let's go outside."

"Well, well, well-Arthur Weasley." It was Mr. Malfoy. He stood with his hand on Draco's shoulder, sneering in just the same way.

"Lucius, " said Mr. Weasley, nodding coldly.

"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear," said Mr. Malfoy. "All those raids... I hope they're paying you over-time?" He reached into Ginny's cauldron and extracted, from amid the glossy Lockhart books, a very old, very battered copy of A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration. "Obviously not," Mr. Malfoy said. "Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?" Mr. Weasley flushed darker than either Ron or Ginny.

"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy," he said.

"Clearly, " said Mr. Malfoy, his pale eyes straying to Mr. And Mrs. Granger, who were watching apprehensively.

"Excuse me." A voice called, sounding angry.

Mr. Malfoy only looked down to see a short kid wearing a British flag shirt a small scarf, and had Big green emerald eyes, thick messy blonde hair with big bushy eyebrows. (Hahaha details~!)

"And what right do you have trying to cause trouble?" The young kid asked, waited a moment and continued, "It's pretty bad when a ten year old ne-."

"HAHAHA~!"

"Alfred I'm trying to lecture here."

Mr. Malfoy only raised an eyebrow at the kids before turning back to Mr. Weasley, "The company you keep, Weasley... And I thought your family could sink no lower-"

There was a thud of metal as Ginny's cauldron went flying; Mr. Weasley had thrown himself at Mr. Malfoy, knocking him backward into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spell books came thundering down on all their heads; there was a yell of, "Get him, Dad!" from Fred or George; Mrs. Weasley was shrieking, "No, Arthur, no!"; the crowd stampeded backward, knocking more shelves over; "Gentlemen, please-please!" cried the assistant, and then, louder than all, "Break it up, there, gents, break it up-" Hagrid was wading toward them through the sea of books. In an instant he had pulled Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy apart. Mr. Weasley had a cut lip and Mr. Malfoy had been hit in the eye by an Encyclopedia of Toadstools.

He was still holding Ginny's old Transfiguration book. He thrust it at her, his eyes glittering with malice. "Here, girl-take your book-it's the best your father can give you-" Pulling himself out of Hagrid's grip he beckoned to Draco and swept from the shop.

"Yeh should've ignored him, Arthur," said Hagrid, almost lifting Mr. Weasley off his feet as he straightened his robes. "Rotten ter the core, the whole family, everyone knows that-no Malfoy's worth listenin' ter-bad blood, that's what it is-come on now-let's get outta here."

The assistant looked as though he wanted to stop them leaving, but he barely came up to Hagrid's waist and seemed to think better of it. The Kid who had tried to tell Mr. Malfoy off followed them, along with Alfred, Matthew and some… French kid?

They hurried up the street, the Grangers shaking with fright and Mrs. Weasley beside herself with fury. "A fine example to set for your children... Brawling in public... What Gilderoy Lockhart must've thought...?"

"He was pleased," said Fred. "Didn't you hear him as we were leaving? He was asking that bloke from the Daily Prophet if he'd be able to work the fight into his report-said it was all publicity"

"Hey Alfred? Who was that kid?" Harry asked looking at the kid in the flag shirt, he also noticed the strange clothing all of them were wearing, Alfred was wearing a bomber jacket, Matthew was wearing a red hoodie with a maple leaf, The French kid had a blue cape of some sort and red pants…

"That's Iggy!" Alfred laughed.

"That was Iggy?" The trio all said at the same time.

"Yea- But don't call him Iggy in front of him, HAHAHA~! He hates it when I do that." Alfred told them and walked up to 'Iggy' to demonstrate.

"Iggy, Dude im hungry, For reals yo!" Alfred pouted loudly.

"Stop mangling the queen's language!" 'Iggy' Shouted angrily.

"Dude- I'm speaking American." Alfred stated.

"Gah! Forget it!"

"Hey Harry, Ron, Hermione!" Alfred called over loudly.

As the trio walked over Alfred grinned, "The French dude here is Francis!" Alfred introduced.

"Francis Bonnefoy." Francis said with a wink to no one in particular.

"And the one in a bad mood is Iggy!" Alfred introduced.

"I am not in a bad mood!" 'Iggy' Snapped, "And my name is Arthur Kirkland not Iggy!"

Harry tilted his head and Arthur jumped a bit, "What?" he asked.

"Your dad came to my house a few weeks ago…" Harry said thinking out loud, he didn't notice the three tensed, "You look almost exactly like him!" Harry said.

"Almost?" Arthur asked.

"Exactly?" Francis asked.

Hermione looked over her shoulder to her parents, "I've got to go now, were going to a pub at the muggle street on the other side." Hermione said heading off.

"So…" Mr. Weasley said as he walked over to the group, "How exactly does a bus work?" But after seeing the look on Mrs. Weasley's face he dropped the subject.

"Guess we'll see you around eh?" Matthew said quietly.

"Yeah, we've got to head off now, Cheerio!" Arthur agreed.

"See you around Ohononon~!" Francis agreed.

"Don't Fear! The hero will be back again~!" Alfred shouted and the four left.

"I think we may have a problem…" Ron started.

"Huh?" Harry asked.

"Lockhart's ego and Alfred's ego."

This was going to be one interesting year.

Another chapter~! I'll try to get more chapters on today, Tuesday and Wednesday.


	5. Chapter five: A long train ride

I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR HETALIA

The end of the summer vacation came too quickly for Harry's liking. He was looking forward to getting back to Hogwarts, but his month at the Burrow had been the happiest of his life. It was difficult not to feel jealous of Ron when he thought of the Dursleys and the sort of welcome he could expect next time he turned up on Privet Drive. On their last evening, Mrs. Weasley conjured up a sumptuous dinner that included all of Harry's favorite things, ending with a mouth-watering treacle pudding.

Fred and George rounded off the evening with a display of Filibuster fireworks; they filled the kitchen with red and blue stars that bounced from ceiling to wall for at least half an hour. Then it was time for a last mug of hot chocolate and bed. It took a long while to get started next morning. They were up at dawn, but somehow they still seemed to have a great deal to do. Mrs. Weasley dashed about in a bad mood looking for spare socks and quills; people kept colliding on the stairs, half-dressed with bits of toast in their hands; and Mr. Weasley nearly broke his neck, tripping over a stray chicken as he crossed the yard carrying Ginny's trunk to the car. Harry couldn't see how eight people, six large trunks, two owls, and a rat were going to fit into one small Ford Anglia.

He had reckoned, of course, without the special features that Mr. Weasley had added. "Not a word to Molly," he whispered to Harry as he opened the trunk and showed him how it had been magically expanded so that the luggage fitted easily. When at last they were all in the car, Mrs. Weasley glanced into the back seat, where Harry, Ron, Fred, George, and Percy were all sitting comfortably side by side, and said, "Muggles do know more than we give them credit for, don't they?" She and Ginny got into the front seat, which had been stretched so that it resembled a park bench.

"I mean, you'd never know it was this roomy from the outside, would you?" Mr. Weasley started up the engine and they trundled out of the yard, Harry turning back for a last look at the house. He barely had time to wonder when he'd see it again when they were back George had forgotten his box of Filibuster fireworks. Five minutes after that, they skidded to a halt in the yard so that Fred could run in for his broomstick. They had almost reached the highway when Ginny shrieked that she'd left her diary. By the time she had clambered back into the car, they were running very late, and tempers were running high.

Mr. Weasley glanced at his watch and then at his wife. "Molly, dear-"

"No, Arthur-"

"No one would see-this little button here is an Invisibility Booster I installed-that'd get us up in the air-then we fly above the clouds. We'd be there in ten minutes and no one would be any the wiser-"

"I said no, Arthur, not in broad daylight-" They reached King's Cross at a quarter to eleven. Mr. Weasley dashed across the road to get trolleys for their trunks and they all hurried into the station. Harry had caught the Hogwarts Express the previous year. The tricky part was getting onto plat form nine and three-quarters, which wasn't visible to the Muggle eye. What you had to do was walk through the solid barrier dividing platforms nine and ten. It didn't hurt, but it had to be done carefully so that none of the Muggles noticed you vanishing.

"Percy first, " said Mrs. Weasley, looking nervously at the clock overhead, which showed they had only five minutes to disappear casually through the barrier. Percy strode briskly forward and vanished. Mr. Weasley went next; Fred and George followed.

"I'll take Ginny and you two come right after us," Mrs. Weasley told Harry and Ron, grabbing Ginny's hand and setting off. In the blink of an eye they were gone.

"Let's go together, we've only got a minute," Ron said to Harry. Harry made sure that Hedwig's cage was safely wedged on top of his trunk and wheeled his trolley around to face the barrier. He felt perfectly confident; this wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as using Floo powder. Both of them bent low over the handles of their trolleys and walked purposefully toward the barrier, gathering speed. A few feet away from it, they broke into a run and -CRASH. Both trolleys hit the barrier and bounced backward; Ron's trunk fell off with a loud thump, Harry was knocked off his feet, and Hedwig's cage bounced onto the shiny floor, and she rolled away, shrieking indignantly; people all around them stared and a guard nearby yelled, "What in blazes d'you think you're doing?"

"Lost control of the trolley," Harry gasped, clutching his ribs as he got up. Ron ran to pick up Hedwig, who was causing such a scene that there was a lot of muttering about cruelty to animals from the surrounding crowd.

"Why can't we get through?" Harry hissed to Ron.

"I Dunno-"Ron looked wildly around. A dozen curious people were still watching them. "We're going to miss the train," Ron whispered.

"I don't understand why the gate way's sealed itself-"Harry looked up at the giant clock with a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. Ten seconds... Nine seconds... He wheeled his trolley forward cautiously until it was right against the barrier and pushed with all his might. The metal remained solid. Three seconds... Two seconds... One second...

"It's gone," said Ron, sounding stunned. "The train's left. What if Mum and Dad can't get back through to us?"

Meanwhile on the train.

"Hermione? Dude where's Ron and Harry?" Alfred asked as Hermione joined the compartment where Francis, Arthur, Matthew and Alfred sat.

"I'm not sure; I hope they haven't already gotten themselves in trouble." Hermione said sitting down, a worried look on her face.

"No need to worry_ mademoiselle, _I am sure your friends are fine." France said winking at Hermione, whose face had a faint blush on it.

"Frog, Is it possible for you not to flirt on the first day _at least_?" Arthur sighed.

"Non." Francis said smirking.

"Hey dude's what house do you think you're going to be in?" Alfred asked the 'First years' Loudly.

"I'm not sure to be honest." Arthur shrugged.

"Is there a house specializing in _l'amour_? Francis asked, Arthur glared at him.

"And what is with these tacky outfits?" Francis asked looking at his outfit in disgust.

"There the school uniforms." Hermione said.

"You have got to be kidding me."

"Anyone want a snack, I've made scones?" Arthur asked, taking out a bag.

"Sure, why no-?" Hermione began.

"NO!" Everyone shouted, including Matthew.

Arthur had a sad look on his face, "My cooking's not that bad…"

Hermione, not wanting to upset the first year said, "I'll try one."

"NO!" Everyone shouted again but Arthur happily shared his scones, a moment later it seemed that Hermione had fainted.

"l' Angleterre!" Francis shouted.

"Wh-?"

"You killed her dude!"

"I did no-."  
"Your cooking killed her!"

"It did not!"

The next ten minutes continued like this, Hermione slowly began to awake.

Hermione's POV

"See! I told you she was fine!" she heard Arthur yell.

"l' a- Arthur! You knocked her out!"

"That doesn't mean my cooking's bad!"

"Oui. It does."

"Bloody frog!"

"Rosbif!"

Hermione watched, slightly amused by the two, but also un-amused due to the fact she now had a headache.

"HAHAHA~! Hey Hermione you alive there? Congratulations! You survived Iggy's coo-." Alfred began but was now being strangled by Arthur. "My cooking isn't bad! You just have no taste to the culinary arts!"

"Dude Calm down!"

"Release your sexual tensions elsewhere." Francis said.

"Piss off/What?" Arthur and Alfred exclaimed. (A/N I don't remember what England said in that episode sorry)

"Eh? I think Hermione has a headache!" Matthew said for the umpteenth time, finally being heard.

"Sorry Hermione, that was very ungentlemanly for me to yell in front of you." Arthur apologized.

"I am also sorry; That Arthur is a terrible cook." Francis said in a mock apologetic voice.

This was going to be a long ride.

Hahaha~! I'm trying to get some French words for France, but I don't like using Google translate.

I should have another chapter on Tuesday, maybe Monday after school if I have time.

ALSO~! It's almost sorting hat time again~! What houses do you think England and France should be in?


	6. Chapter six: The Hat's song

Hermione seemed tired when they headed off to the carriages.

Arthur and Francis headed for the boats.

"Dude weird horses." Alfred said as he hopped into the carriage.

"Eh… they kind of look scary." Matthew said, also hopping in.

"What are you two talking about? The carriages pull themselves." Hermione told them.

"WAAH! IGGY'S MAKING US SEE IS FAKE NOT REAL IMAGINARY MAGICAL FRIENDS!" Alfred shouted.

Elsewhere…

Arthur and Francis were on a boat, Arthur sneezed suddenly, causing the boat to almost tip over.

"Watch it _l' Angleterre_! I do not wish to be soaked when we get sorted!"

"Sod off."

"You hurt me l' Angleterre, you hurt me." Francis said overdramatically.

Arthur ignored him.

The rest of the boat ride was quiet, and as the two first years made their way into the castle their opinions were different.

"It truly is magnificent!" Arthur exclaimed in awe.

"It's tacky, it has no romantic appeal."

As they walked into the great hall they both changed their opinions.

"It's Amazing!"

"The candles can set the mood."

Ok their opinions didn't change too much.

The soring hat was placed on a stool; "Oh please, you have got to be kidding me." Francis had said looking at the hat, the hat opened its mouth and started to sing.

(I put the lines to space it out.)

* * *

**I may not seem like much,**

**Not easy for the eye's to touch,**

**But I am by far the smartest,**

**Sorting hat,**

**you have ever seen.**

* * *

**You have nothing at all to fear,**

**So step up and be ready to cheer,**

**Once you're placed into your house,**

**You will begin to see,**

**That I have been right,**

**Since the first star of early light,**

* * *

**Nothing to fear,**

**I see all,**

**And I will see,**

**That You be sorted properly!**

* * *

**Gryffindor you will be,**

**Wild and Brave or be it,**

**Strong and Bold,**

**the house of Gryffindor,**

**Has not much fear and will surely strive till their goal,**

* * *

**Hufflepuff you can be,**

**If loyal to the heart,**

**Always have patience,**

**And always play the part,**

* * *

**There is also wise Ravenclaw,**

**Thirsty for knowledge and ready to learn,**

**Always waiting for the right,**

**Reasonable turn,**

* * *

**Slytherin if you've got ambition,**

**Ready for achieving your ends,**

**Cunning and skilled,**

**And are always ready for a thrill,**

* * *

**So get ready to meet your houses,**

**Family if you will,**

**Not much else to say,**

**So let the sorting begin!**

(GAAH! I'M NO POET!)

"Hey-Harry-come and look-it's the Sorting!" Harry hurried over and, together, he and Ron peered in at the Great Hall. Innumerable candles were hovering in midair over four long, crowded tables, making the golden plates and goblets sparkle. Overhead, the bewitched ceiling, which always mirrored the sky outside, sparkled with stars. Through the forest of pointed black Hogwarts hats, Harry saw a long line of scared-looking first years filing into the Hall. Ginny was among them, easily visible because of her vivid Weasley hair. Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall, a bespectacled witch with her hair in a tight bun, was placing the famous Hog-warts Sorting Hat on a stool before the newcomers.

Every year, this aged old hat, patched, frayed, and dirty, sorted new students into the four Hogwarts houses (Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin). Harry well remembered putting it on, exactly one year ago, and waiting, petrified, for its decision as it muttered aloud in his ear. For a few horrible seconds he had feared that the hat was going to put him in Slytherin, the house that had turned out more Dark witches and wizards than any other -but he had ended up in Gryffindor, along with Ron, Hermione, and the rest of the Weasleys. Last term, Harry and Ron had helped Gryffindor win the House Championship, beating Slytherin for the first time in seven years.

A very small, mousy-haired boy had been called forward to place the hat on his head. Harry's eyes wandered past him to where Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, sat watching the Sorting from the staff table, his long silver beard and half-moon glasses shining brightly in the candlelight. Several seats along, Harry saw Gilderoy Lockhart, dressed in robes of aquamarine. And there at the end was Hagrid, huge and hairy, drinking deeply from his goblet.

"Hang on..." Harry muttered to Ron.

"There's an empty chair at the staff table... Where's Snape?" Professor Severus Snape was Harry's least favorite teacher. Harry also happened to be Snape's least favorite student. Cruel, sarcastic, and disliked by everybody except the students from his own house (Slytherin), Snape taught Potions.

"Maybe he's ill!" said Ron hopefully.

"Maybe he's left," said Harry, "because he missed out on the Defense Against Dark Arts job again!"

"Or he might have been sacked!" said Ron enthusiastically. "I mean, everyone hates him-"

"Or maybe," said a very cold voice right behind them, "he's waiting to hear why you two didn't arrive on the school train." Harry spun around. There, his black robes rippling in a cold breeze stood Severus Snape. He was a thin man with sallow skin, a hooked nose, and greasy, shoulder-length black hair, and at this moment, he was smiling in a way that told Harry he and Ron were in very deep trouble.

"Follow me," said Snape

Francis' Pov

It seemed Harry and his friend was late and got in trouble.

"Bonnefoy, Francis." A voice called.

Francis walked up to the stool and placed the, as he called it, tacky hat on.

'Not very nice to me are you France?' The hat asked, Francis was speechless, 'You know a lot about a certain topic. Don't you?'

'Better be… RAVENCLAW!' The hat shouted at loud and Francis was welcomed to the Ravenclaw table, where he immediately put on his charm, a bit later he decided to chat with Luna Lovegood, she was actually quite interesting.

Arthur's Pov

Arthur honestly had no idea what house he would be in, he was quite curious to find out as well.

"Kirkland, Arthur!" A voice called, it was professor McGonagall.

Arthur walked up to the stool and put on the hat.

'Very curious aren't you England?' The hat asked, Arthur was also speechless, 'Dipped into the black magic a few times… Former pirate? Quite cunning…'

'Better be… SLYTHERIN!'

Arthur then went to his table where there was also cheering, but one of the first things he noticed was the kid of the guy from Diagon alley was in his house.

'This should be interesting.' Arthur smirked, purposely sitting in front of Malfoy.

"Hey, you're the bloke from before." Malfoy said frowning.

"And you're the son of the bloke before that I met yesterday at that place." Arthur responded.

Crabbe and Goyle looked confused,

'This was going to be fun' Arthur thought.

Harry's POV

They walked past muttering portraits and creaking suits of armor, and climbed narrow flights of stone stairs, until at last they reached the passage where the secret entrance to Gryffindor Tower was hidden, behind an oil painting of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said as they approached.

"Er-" said Harry. They didn't know the new year's password, not having met a Gryffindor prefect yet, but help came almost immediately; they heard hurrying feet behind them and turned to see Hermione and Alfred dashing toward them.

"There you are! Where have you been? The most ridiculous rumors-someone said you'd been expelled for crashing a flying car. "

"Yeah dudes, why didn't you tell me?" Alfred asked.

"Well, we haven't been expelled, " Harry assured her.

"You're not telling me you did fly here?" said Hermione, sounding almost as severe as Professor McGonagall.

"Skip the lecture," said Ron impatiently, "and tell us the new password. "

"It's "wattlebird", " said Hermione impatiently, "but that's not the point-" Her words were cut short, however, as the portrait of the fat lady swung open and there was a sudden storm of clapping. It looked as though the whole of Gryffindor House was still awake, packed into the circular common room, standing on the lopsided tables and squashy armchairs, waiting for them to arrive. Arms reached through the portrait hole to pull Harry and Ron inside, leaving Hermione to scramble in after them.

"Brilliant!" yelled Lee Jordan. "Inspired! What an entrance! Flying a car right into the Whomping Willow, people will be talking about that one for years-"

"Good for you, " said a fifth year Harry had never spoken to; someone was patting him on the back as though he'd just won a marathon; Fred and George pushed their way to the front of the crowd and said together, "Why couldn't we've come in the car, eh?" Ron was scarlet in the face, grinning embarrassedly, but Harry could see one person who didn't look happy at all. Percy was visible over the heads of some excited first years, and he seemed to be trying to get near enough to start telling them off.

Harry nudged Ron in the ribs and nodded in Percy's direction. Ron got the point at once. "Got to get upstairs-bit tired," he said, and the two of them started pushing their way toward the door on the other side of the room, which led to a spiral staircase and the dormitories.

"Night," Harry called back to Hermione, who was wearing a scowl just like Percy's. They managed to get to the other side of the common room, still having their backs slapped, and gained the peace of the staircase. They hurried up it, right to the top, and at last reached the door of their old dormitory, which now had a sign on it saying SECOND YEARS. They entered the familiar, circular room, with its five four-posters hung with red velvet and its high, narrow windows. Their trunks had been brought up for them and stood at the ends of their beds. Ron grinned guiltily at Harry.

"I know I shouldn't have enjoyed that or anything, but-" The dormitory door flew open and in came the other second year Gryffindor boys, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and Neville Longbottom, Alfred also came up.

"Unbelievable!" beamed Seamus.

"Cool," said Dean.

"Amazing," said Neville, awestruck. Harry couldn't help it. He grinned, too.

"Hey- Alfred?" Harry asked.

"Yo?" Alfred answered.

"What houses did your friends get sorted into?" Harry asked curiously.

"Hmm… Francis is in Ravenclaw and Iggy's in Slythe-." Before Alfred could finish Ron and Harry cut him off.

"Slytherin?"

Another short chapter, hope you liked it and the sorting hat song~!


	7. Chapter seven: Merlin

I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR HETALIA

The next day, Harry barely grinned once. Things started to go downhill from breakfast in the Great Hall. The four long house tables were laden with tureens of porridge, plates of kippers, mountains of toast, and dishes of eggs and bacon, beneath the enchanted ceiling (today, a dull, cloudy gray). Harry and Ron sat down at the Gryffindor table next to Hermione, who had her copy of Voyages with Vampires propped open against a milk jug and Alfred sat across from them.

There was a slight stiffness in the way she said "Morning," which told Harry that she was still disapproving of the way they had arrived. Neville Longbottom, on the other hand, greeted them cheerfully. Neville was a round-faced and accident-prone boy with the worst memory of anyone Harry had ever met. "Mail's due any minute-I think Gran's sending a few things I forgot."

Harry had only just started his porridge when, sure enough, there was a rushing sound overhead and a hundred or so owls streamed in, circling the hall and dropping letters and packages into the chattering crowd. A big, lumpy package bounced off Neville's head and, a second later, something large and gray fell into Hermione's jug, spraying them all with milk and feathers.

"Errol!" said Ron, pulling the bedraggled owl out by the feet. Errol slumped, unconscious, onto the table, his legs in the air and a damp red envelope in his beak.

"Oh, no-" Ron gasped.

"It's all right, he's still alive," said Hermione, prodding Errol gently with the tip of her finger.

"It's not that-it's that." Ron was pointing at the red envelope. It looked quite ordinary to Harry, but Ron and Neville were both looking at it as though they expected it to explode. "What's the matter?" said Harry.

"She's-she's sent me a Howler," said Ron faintly.

"You mean like that one Iggy gave me last year?" Alfred asked.

"You'd better open it, Ron," said Neville in a timid whisper.

"It'll be worse if you don't My gran sent me one once, and I ignored it and"-he gulped-"it was horrible."

Harry looked from their petrified faces to the red envelope.

"What's a Howler?" he said.

"It's the kind of letter that screams its contents at you." Alfred answered eating some hamburgers.

But Ron's whole attention was fixed on the letter, which had begun to smoke at the corners.

"Open it, " Neville urged. "It'll all be over in a few minutes-"

Ron stretched out a shaking hand, eased the envelope from Errol's beak, and slit it open. Alfred continued eating and Neville stuffed his fingers in his ears. A split second later, Harry knew why. He thought for a moment it had exploded; a roar of sound filled the huge hall, shaking dust from the ceiling.

"STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL IGET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENTTHROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT WAS GONE-" Mrs. Weasleys yelled, a hundred times louder than usual, made the plates and spoons rattle on the table, and echoed deafeningly off the stone walls.

People throughout the hall were swiveling around to see who had received the Howler, and Ron sank so low in his chair that only his crimson forehead could be seen.

"LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WEDIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND HARRY COULD BOTH HAVE DIED-"

Harry had been wondering when his name was going to crop up. He tried very hard to look as though he couldn't hear the voice that was making his eardrums throb.

"-ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED-YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOURFAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME." A ringing silence fell. The red envelope, which had dropped from Ron's hand, burst into flames and curled into ashes. Harry and Ron sat stunned, as though a tidal wave had just passed over them. A few people laughed and, gradually, a babble of talk broke out again.

"Hey dude…"

Hermione closed Voyages with Vampires and looked down at the top of Ron's head. "Well, I don't know what you expected, Ron, but you-"

"Don't tell me I deserved it," snapped Ron.

Harry pushed his porridge away. His insides were burning with guilt. Mr. Weasley was facing an inquiry at work. After all Mr. And Mrs. Weasley had done for him over the summer... But he had no time to dwell on this; Professor McGonagall was moving along the Gryffindor table, handing out course schedules. Harry took his and saw that they had double Herbology with the Hufflepuffs first.

Harry, Ron, Alfred and Hermione left the castle together, crossed the vegetable patch, and made for the greenhouses, where the magical plants were kept. At least the Howler had done one good thing: Hermione seemed to think they had now been punished enough and was being perfectly friendly again. As they neared the greenhouses they saw the rest of the class standing outside, waiting for Professor Sprout. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had only just joined them when she came striding into view across the lawn, accompanied by Gilderoy Lockhart.

Professor Sprout's arms were full of bandages, and with another twinge of guilt, Harry spotted the Whomping Willow in the distance, several of its branches no win slings. Professor Sprout was a squat little witch who wore a patched hat over her flyaway hair; there was usually a large amount of earth on her clothes and her fingernails would have made Aunt Petunia faint. Gilderoy Lockhart, however, was immaculate in sweeping robes of turquoise, his golden hair shining under a perfectly positioned turquoise hat with gold trimming.

"Oh, hello there!" he called, beaming around at the assembled students. "Just been showing Professor Sprout the right way to doctor a Whomping Willow! But I don't want you running away with the idea that I'm better at Herbology than she is! I just happen to have met several of these exotic plants on my travels..."

"Greenhouse three today, chaps!" said Professor Sprout, who was looking distinctly disgruntled, not at all her usual cheerful self. There was a murmur of interest. They had only ever worked in greenhouse one before—greenhouse three housed far more interesting and dangerous plants. Professor Sprout took a large key from her belt and unlocked the door. Harry caught a whiff of damp earth and fertilizer mingling with the heavy per-fume of some giant, umbrella sized flowers dangling from the ceiling. He was about to follow Ron Alfred, Alf-Matthew, and Hermione inside when Lockhart's hand shot out.

"Harry! I've been wanting a word-you don't mind if he's a couple of minutes late, do you, Professor Sprout?" Judging by Professor Sprout's scowl, she did mind, but Lockhart said, "That's the ticket," and closed the greenhouse door in her face.

"Harry," said Lockhart, his large white teeth gleaming in the sunlight as he shook his head. "Harry, Harry, Harry."

Completely nonplussed, Harry said nothing. "When I heard -well, of course, it was my entire fault. Could have kicked myself." Harry had no idea what he was talking about. He was about to say so when Lockhart went on, "Don't know when I've been more shocked. Flying a car to Hogwarts! Well, of course, I knew at once why you'd done it. Stood out a mile. Harry, Harry, Harry "

It was remarkable how he could show every one of those brilliant teeth even when he wasn't talking.

"Gave you a taste for publicity, didn't I?" said Lockhart. "Gave you the bug. You got onto the front page of the paper with me and you couldn't wait to do it again."

"Oh, no, Professor, see-"

"Harry, Harry, Harry, " said Lockhart, reaching out and grasping his shoulder. "I understand. Natural to want a bit more once you've had that first taste-and I blame myself for giving you that, because it was bound to go to your head-but see here, young man, you can't start flying cars to try and get yourself noticed. Just calm down, all right? Plenty of time for all that when you're older. Yes, yes, I know what you're thinking! 'It's all right for him, he's an internationally famous wizard already!' But when I was twelve, I was just as much of a nobody as you are now. In fact, I'd say I was even more of a nobody! I mean, a few people have heard of you, haven't they? All that business with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!" He glanced at the lightning scar on Harry's forehead. "I know, I know-it's not quite as good as winning Witch Weekly's Most Charming-Smile Award five times in a row, as I have-but it's a start, Harry, it's a start." He gave Harry a hearty wink and strode off.

Harry stood stunned for a few seconds, then, remembering he was supposed to be in the greenhouse, he opened the door and slid inside. Professor Sprout was standing behind a trestle bench in the center of the greenhouse. About twenty pairs of different colored ear muffs were lying on the bench. When Harry had taken his place between Ron and Hermione, she said, "We'll be repotting Mandrakes today. Now, who can tell me the properties of the Mandrake?"

To nobody's surprise, Hermione's hand was first into the air. "Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative," said Hermione, sounding as usual as though she had swallowed the textbook. "It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state."

"Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor," said Professor Sprout. "The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is also, however, dangerous. Who can tell me why?"

Hermione's hand narrowly missed Harry's glasses as it shot up again. "The cry of the Mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it," she said promptly.

"Precisely. Take another ten points," said Professor Sprout. "Now, the Mandrakes we have here are still very young."

She pointed to a row of deep trays as she spoke, and everyone shuffled forward for a better look. A hundred or so tufty little plants, purplish green in color, were growing there in rows. They looked quite unremarkable to Harry, who didn't have the slightest idea what Hermione meant by the "cry" of the Mandrake.

"Everyone take a pair of earmuffs, " said Professor Sprout. There was a scramble as everyone tried to seize a pair that wasn't pink and fluffy.

"When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are completely covered," said Professor Sprout.

"When it is safe to remove them, I will give you the thumbs-up. Right, earmuffs on."

Harry snapped the earmuffs over his ears. They shut out sound completely. Professor Sprout put the pink, fluffy pair over her own ears, rolled up the sleeves of her robes, grasped one of the tufty plants firmly, and pulled hard. Harry let out a gasp of surprise that no one could hear. Instead of roots, a small, muddy, and extremely ugly baby popped out of the earth. The leaves were growing right out of his head. He had pale green, mottled skin, and was clearly bawling at the top of his lungs.

Professor Sprout took a large plant pot from under the table and plunged the Mandrake into it, burying him in dark, damp compost until only the tufted leaves were visible. Professor Sprout dusted off her hands, gave them all the thumbs-up, and removed her own earmuffs.

"As our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won't kill yet," she said calmly as though she'd just done nothing more exciting than water a begonia.

"However, they will knock you out for several hours, and as I'm sure none of you want to miss your first day back, make sure your earmuffs are securely in place while you work. I will attract your attention when it is time to pack up.

"Four to a tray-there is a large supply of pots here-compost in the sacks over there-and be careful of the Venomous Tentacula, its teething." She gave a sharp slap to a spiky, dark red plant as she spoke, making it draw in the long feelers that had been inching sneakily over her shoulder.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were joined at their tray by a curly-haired Hufflepuff boy Harry knew by sight but had never spoken to.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley," he said brightly, shaking Harry by the hand. "Know who you are, of course, the famous Harry Potter... And you're Hermione Granger-always top in everything... " (Hermione beamed as she had her hand shaken too) "and Ron Weasley. Wasn't that your flying car?" Ron didn't smile. The Howler was obviously still on his mind.

"That Lockhart's something isn't he?" said Justin happily as they began filling their plant pots with dragon dung compost. "Awfully brave chap. Have you read his books? I'd have died of fear if Id been cornered in a telephone booth by a werewolf, but he stayed cool and-zap-just fantastic. "My name was down for Eton, you know. I can't tell you how glad I am I came here instead. Of course, Mother was slightly disappointed, but since I made her read Lockhart's books I think she's begun to see how useful it'll be to have a fully trained wizard in the family... "

Alfred's POV

Alfred, Matthew, Neville and a Hufflepuff girl, Hannah Abbott, were in another group. (A/N I think Hannah is in Hufflepuff…)

"How do you think Francis and Arthur are doing?" Matthew asked his brother.

"HAHAHA~! Dude there either strangling each other, ignoring each other, or are about to." Alfred said getting his earmuffs ready.

Somewhere else in the castle two people sneezed.

There wasn't much time for them to talk after because their earmuffs were back on and they needed to concentrate on the Mandrakes. Professor Sprout had made it look extremely easy, but it wasn't. The Mandrakes didn't like coming out of the earth, but didn't seem to want to go back into it either. They squirmed, kicked, flailed their sharp little fists, and gnashed their teeth; "Alright, were going to need some backup!" Alfred yelled, but no one could hear because of the earmuffs and screaming.

"Eh!" Matthew whisper/shouted as the Mandrake almost bit His bear, that still, no one had noticed unless it talked.

Alfred and Matthew made their ways quickly to the castle so they could wash up before class. Alfred and the Gryffindors hurried off to Transfiguration. Matthew made his way to potions.

Arthur's Pov

Arthur headed quickly back to the Slytherin common room before his next class, which was in the dungeons of Hogwarts Castle, and located underneath the Black Lake. Arthur didn't mind the location, because of it the common room was a nice shade of green.

He had Herbology with Ravenclaw next.

Harry's POV

Professor McGonagall's classes were always hard work, but today was especially difficult. Everything Harry had learned last year seemed to have leaked out of his head during the summer. He was supposed to be turning a beetle into a button, but all he managed to do was give his beetle a lot of exercise as it scuttled over the desktop avoiding his wand. Ron was having far worse problems. He had patched up his wand with some borrowed Spello-tape, but it seemed to be damaged beyond repair. It kept crackling and sparking at odd moments, and every time Ron tried to transfigure his beetle it engulfed him in thick gray smoke that smelled of rotten eggs. Unable to see what he was doing, Ron accidentally squashed his beetle with his elbow and had to ask for a new one. Professor McGonagall wasn't pleased.

Harry was relieved to hear the lunch bell. His brain felt like a wrung sponge. Everyone filed out of the classroom except him and Ron, who was whacking his wand furiously on the desk.

"Stupid-useless-thing-"

"Write home for another one," Harry suggested as the wand let off a volley of bangs like a firecracker.

"Oh, yeah, and get another Howler back," said Ron, stuffing the now hissing wand into his bag. " `It's your own fault your wand got snapped-"

They went down to lunch, where Ron's mood was not improved by Hermione's showing them the handful of perfect coat buttons she had produced in Transfiguration.

"What've we got this afternoon?" said Harry, hastily changing the subject.

"Defense against the Dark Arts," said Hermione at once.

"Why, "demanded Ron, seizing her schedule, "have you outlined all Lockhart's lessons in little hearts?" Hermione snatched the schedule back, blushing furiously.

"Hey where's Alfred?" Hermione asked changing the subject again.

Harry and Ron looked around them then shrugged.

They finished lunch and went outside into the overcast courtyard. Hermione sat down on a stone step and buried her nose in Voyages with Vampires again. Harry and Ron stood talking about Quidditch for a while when he saw a group coming to them, It was Francis, Alfred Arthur and… Matthew.

"Hey dudes!" Alfred said loudly, standing at the front of the group, Matthew at his right and Arthur on his left.

"Why is he here?" Ron asked, staring at Arthur.

Arthur frowned, "I'm here with my friends."

"HAHAHA~! Yeah dudes, Iggy's cool!" Alfred said laughing.

"Arthur, my name. Is. Arthur." Arthur said.

"Hey where did France-is go?" Matthew asked quietly.

Francis had gone to charm a group of people, but no one heard Matthew ask the question.

Ron was still staring at Arthur, and Arthur was trying not to roll his eyes, Harry could tell.

"Ron! Stop being so rude." Hermione finally snapped.

"But he's Slytherin! There hasn't been a single witch or wizard who hasn't gone bad in that house!' Ron whispered so low only Hermione could hear, and even she had to strain her ears to catch what he said.

"Merlin." Arthur stated.

"What?" Ron asked annoyed.

"Merlin is a wizard featured in many British legends. Though he first appeared under the name Myrddin Wyllt, Merlin the wild, in Welsh literature as a half-crazed prophet of the forest, he is perhaps most famous as a central figure in the Arthurian legend. He is most commonly depicted as the adviser of King Arthur." Arthur said almost proudly.

"What's that got to do with anything?" Ron snapped, thinking Arthur was just trying to show him up or something.

"Merlin was in Slytherin."

Ron's thought: 'How the bloody hell did he hear me?'

End of chapter~! Hope you like it, Lockhart's class next chapter. I wonder if Arthur convince Ron he's not bad?


	8. Quick thing

Quick thing! If you haven't known already Pottermore is open! now you now if you didn't! I just joined! I'm a Hufflepuff~! And my brother is a Gryffindor~!

*Immediately thinks of my fanfiction*

…

Anyway~! New chapter tomorrow~!


	9. Chapter nine: Truce's and Friends

I do not own harry potter or hetalia

Random Fact: My best friend keeps calling England Iggy Arbuckle

Ron thought to himself, "How the bloody hell did he hear me?"

Arthur's Pov.

"Well I'm off to get my things, see you later." Arthur said, hiding his smirk.

"HAHAHA Dude Iggy We still have tones of time left before class!" Alfred said loudly.

"Yes, but it is obvious I'm not welcome yet." Arthur said getting his stuff and leaving, it would take some time to be welcomed by Harry and Ron it seemed, they seemed to be not very trustful of Slytherins. But Arthur didn't mind, he was here to protect the school, not that anyone would notice besides his fellow nations who were helping.

Arthur made his way into the cold dungeons, were the Slytherin room was, under the black lake. He went up into the dorms; he went to his bed, surrounded by green curtains, and opened his trunk taking out the numerous books Lockhart had put on the supplies list. Arthur sighed, this guy was sure to be worse than France.

Arthur than made his way slowly to the class, there was still quite a bit of time left so he figured he could at least enjoy the castle view. He was enjoying himself, wondering around and then he was inturupted.

"Hey Iggy!" Arthur assumed it was Alfred.

"What is it Alfred?" Arthur asked patiently, he felt like he was being watched.

"Why'd you leave earlier, you missed a scene, But don't worry the Hero was there so it was fine." Alfred said loudly.

Arthur didn't bother to ask about the scene, it was probably France, some childish Slytherins or Lockhart.

"HAHAHA~! What do ya think class is gunna be like? Hopefully its better than last year for reals yo~!" Alfred said loudly again.

Arthur had already been there so he answered; "It's probably worse than last years."

"Where's Harry, Ron and Hermione?" Arthur asked, staring pointedly at a statue.

"HAHAHA~! Guess nothing can fool you Iggy, Hey guys come out!" Alfred said loudly and Said golden trio popped out from behind.

"How the bloody hell did you know where we were?" Ron asked, but Hermione glared at Ron.

"Honestly Ron, you could at least try to be nicer." Hermione sighed.

Arthur just looked at the three of them, then back to Alfred.

"Why are you following me?" Arthur asked.

"They just wanna make sure you cool bro ha." Alfred said loudly.

"For goodness sakes! Stop mangling the queens' language git!" Arthur snapped.

"We better get going or we will be late…" Harry started, and didn't need to finish for Hermione dragged him and Ron away, Alfred followed, and Arthur headed off to his own class, Arthur already had to suffer through Lockhart's class.

*Flashback*

When the whole class was seated, Lockhart cleared his throat loudly and silence fell. He reached for-ward, picked up someone's copy of Travels with Trolls, and held it up to show his own, winking portrait on the front.

"Me," he said, pointing at it and winking as well. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming-Smile Award-but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!" He waited for them to laugh; a few people smiled weakly, Arthur rolled his eyes, this guy was worse than Francis…

"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books-well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in-"When he had handed out the test papers he returned to the front of the class and said, "You have thirty minutes-start-now!"

Arthur looked down at his test and read the questions as he answered them.

What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?

Arthur looked around class and took a wild guess after looking at Lockhart's robes

_**Gold.**_

What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?

Arthur rolled his eyes, how on earth was he supposed to know?

_**No Idea.**_

What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?

Arthur just guessed.

_**Teaching. **_

On and on it went, over three sides of paper, right down to:

54. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?

Arthur rolled his eyes, for the 54th time. And answered

_**A mirror.**_

Half an hour later, Lockhart collected the papers and rifled through them in front of the class.

"Tut, tut-hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac. I say so in Year with the Yeti. And a few of you need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more carefully-I clearly state in Chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples-though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogden's Old Fire whisky!" He gave them another roguish wink.

There was people staring at Lockhart with an expression of disbelief, people who were shaking with silent laughter, people looking around and everyone just having different reactions.

"Sadly no one got a 100% it's a shame really…" Lockhart sighed.

He bent down behind his desk and lifted a large, covered cage onto it. "Now-be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest Creatures known to wizard kind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm."

"I have a bad feeling about this…" Arthur thought starring at the cage.

Lockhart placed a hand on the cover of a cage. Those who were laughing had stopped laughing now. "I must ask you not to scream," said Lockhart in a low voice. "It might provoke them."

As the whole class held its breath, Lockhart whipped off the cover.

"Yes," he said dramatically. "Freshly caught Cornish pixies."

Someone let out a snort of laughter that even Lockhart couldn't mistake for a scream of terror.

"Yes?" He smiled at the kid

"Well, they're not-they're not very-dangerous, are they?" the kid choked.

"Don't be so sure!" said Lockhart, waggling a finger annoyingly at Seamus.

"Devilish tricky little blighters they can be!"

The pixies were electric blue and about eight inches high, with pointed faces and voices so shrill it was like listening to a lot of budgies arguing. The moment the cover had been removed, they had started jabbering and rocketing around, rattling the bars and making bizarre faces at the people nearest them.

"Right, then," Lockhart said loudly. "Let's see what you make of them!"

And he opened the cage. It was pandemonium. The pixies shot in every direction like rockets. Several shot straight through the window, showering the back row with broken glass. The rest proceeded to wreck the classroom more effectively than a rampaging rhino. They grabbed ink bottles and sprayed the class with them, shredded books and papers, tore pictures from the walls, up-ended the waste basket, grabbed bags and books and threw them out of the smashed window; within minutes, half the class was sheltering under desks.

"Come on now-round them up, round them up, they're only pixies," Lockhart shouted. He rolled up his sleeves, brandished his wand, and bellowed, "Peskipiksi Pesternomi!"

It had absolutely no effect; one of the pixies seized his wand and threw it out of the window, too. Lockhart gulped and dived under his own desk, who fell a second later as the chandelier gave way.

Arthur whipped out his wand; he could easily put them all back in the cage with his new wand.

The whole class went silent and looked at Arthur who was holding a wand… with a star on the top.

"Wh-What?" Arthur exclaimed staring at his wand, the class burst out laughing, though they were all trying to avoid the pixies. There was also a note attached to the wand and Arthur quickly and angrily read it.

_**L'Angleterre, **_

_**Ohonon~! You weren't expecting that were you? I have pranked you once again~! Have fun finding it! Ohonon~!**_

"That Soddin-!" Arthur started but was interrupted by the bell and there was a mad dash towards the exit, including all the Slytherins and most the Gryffindors.

Arthur went to his next class trying to avoid all the pointing and laughing, it was really getting on his nerves. Most of the other Slytherins were also laughing at him. It took a lot of effort not to lash out on anyone. Even during class it was terrible.

After class Arthur saw Francis walking through his hall and he smirked, he followed him through the halls waiting for the right moment.

Payback.

But of course before he could get his payback he was interrupted by Lockhart. Arthur had followed Francis all the way past the room.

Well, I'll ask you to help these three just nip the rest of the Cornish pixies back into their cage." He swept past them and shut the door quickly behind him.

"wh- what? This is just like last time!" Arthur nearly yelled at the closed door, he was having some serious da ja vu.

"Can you believe him?" roared Ron as one of the remaining pixies bit him painfully on the ear. "And with a Slytherin." He muttered.

"He just wants to give us some hands-on experience," said Hermione, immobilizing two pixies at once with a clever Freezing Charm and stuffing them back into their cage.

"Hands on?" said Harry, who was trying to grab a pixie dancing out of reach with its tongue out.

"Hermione, he didn't have a clue what he was doing-"

"Rubbish," said Hermione.

"You've read his books-look at all those amazing things he's done-"

"He says he's done," Ron muttered

"I need my wand…" Arthur muttered.

"What happened to your wand?" Harry asked curiously, trying to be nice, even though he obviously didn't trust Arthur yet.

"Well you could always get professor Snape, he'd gladly take off Ravenclaw house points, he probably would like to take Gryffindor house points more but Ravenclaw is probably second best to pick on." Ron muttered, not trying to be polite at all.

"Ron!" Hermione scolded.

"Well where's the fun in that?" Arthur started smirking but then frowned; "What is it with you and Slytherin anyway, I agree Snape can be biased but you are just as bad if you haven't noticed."

"What? I'm not biased! I'm nothing like Snape!" Ron almost shouted, and ducked from another pixie.

Arthur just shrugged and sighed.

They had finally finished rounding up the pixies. And headed out. Arthur kept mumbling about not even being in the class or year.

The trio POV

"Sorry I couldn't be more help, I'll have to go find my wand…" Arthur sighed/Apologized.

"It's alright." Harry and Hermione replied. (Harry still wasn't too sure on Arthur.)

"Whatever." (Ron still wasn't too happy with Arthur.)

"Hey what's this?" Hermione asked picking a note of the ground, after Arthur had left.

"What is it Hermione?" Harry asked.

"L' Angleterre? Isn't that French?" Hermione wondered out loud.

"And It?" Harry wondered also.

"who do you think it's for? Maybe is some sort of code. Ron asked.

"I'm going to the library." Hermione stated and quickly left.

"The answer to everything." Ron sighed.

Harry and Ron made their way outside.

Arthur POV

"Where is that Git!" Arthur asked loudly, scaring some fellow first years. "I swear when I get my hands on him I'm going to-!" Arthur stopped when he was tapped on the shoulder, and nearly jumped a few feet in the air.

"Hey Iggy, were having a meeting!" Alfred said loudly, Arthur almost face palmed but followed anyway. At least he would see the frog and get some answers.

Arthur and Alfred walked through the halls, Arthur being laughed at by any first years who were in his class and those who were told about it; (pretty much the whole school) and they made it to the room of requirement.

They opened the doors and as soon as they opened it looked like there world meeting room. Francis was sitting in the middle.

"You bloody wanker!" Arthur shouted.

"Ohonon~! L'Angleterre? Must you be so harsh? It's all in good fun after all Ohonon~!" Francis laughed.

"HARSH! Sorry did I seem harsh to you! Maybe I can make it better by showing you how HARSH I can be!" Arthur shouted.

"You hurt me L'Angleterre, you really do." Francis said in mock sadness.

"Hey guys since I'm totally the hero-."

Arthur and Francis ignored him and continued arguing.

"Shut up and listen to me!" America said loudly.

They stopped and sat down.

"Okay so *Munch munch* and *Slurp* and maybe we could *Gulp* and then *Much* and Of course *Slurp* and the Hero's me!" America said loudly.

"Oh shut it!"

"Maple~." A voice said.

"What was that?" America asked sitting down.

"I don't know…"

"Did someone put the tape in; you know the one with all the static?"

"Not me."

"I just counted and there are four people in the room!"

"What who the hell else is in here with us?"

"Maple…Leaf…" The voice said again and America jumped up, and rushed to England.

"IGGY! GHOST!"

"Get off of me!"

"I'll s-safe you from the ghost Iggy!"

"Git."

The voice seemed to sigh in relief

"It was just Canadiana… Hahaha, sorry about that dude." America sighed in relief as well.

"Great, we know who else was in here now get off of me."

"HAHAHA Good thing I was here to protect you."

"Right…."

"Anyway! Anything suspicious?" America asked.

"Nope not yet." France said, fixing his cloak.

"Not anything yet…" The quiet Canadian said.

"No, except a missing wand." England said looking right at France.

"I have no Idea what you are talking about."

"Sure you do, sure you do- Tell me where it is git!"

"HAHAHA! No worries Iggy me and Canadiana will keep our eyes out for it." America said.

"It's Canada." Canada corrected, "Right kumaraji." He added hoping for someone to know who he was.

"Who?"

Canada sighed; "I'm Canadian." And once again Canada's hopes came crashing down. 'They will notice me some day! I'll make sure of it." He thought determinedly.

The rest of the meeting was very uneventful, besides cursing, eating, fighting and yelling.

Harry's POV

Harry spent a lot of time over the next few days dodging out of sight whenever he saw Gilderoy Lockhart coming down a corridor. Harder to avoid was Colin Creevey, who seemed to have memorized Harry's schedule. Nothing seemed to give Colin a bigger thrill than to say, "All right, Harry?" six or seven times a day and hear, "Hello, Colin," back, however exasperated Harry sounded when he said it.

Hedwig was still angry with Harry about the disastrous car journey and Ron's wand was still malfunctioning, surpassing itself on Friday morning by shooting out of Ron's hand in Charms and hitting tiny old Professor Flitwick squarely between the eyes, creating a large, throbbing green boil where it had struck. Hermione was spending some time in the library and was barely around but she would keep glancing at Alfred curiously when she was.

So with one thing and another, Harry was quite glad to reach the weekend. He, Ron, and Hermione were planning to visit Hagrid on Saturday morning, Along with Alfred and Matthew (As Hermione had reminded him). Harry, however, was shaken awake several hours earlier than he would have liked by Oliver Wood, Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

"Whassamatter?" said Harry groggily.

"Quidditch practice!" said Wood. "Come on!"39Harry squinted at the window. There was a thin mist hanging across the pink-and-gold sky.

Now that he was awake, he couldn't understand how he could have slept through the racket the birds were making.

"Oliver," Harry croaked. "It's the crack of dawn."

"Exactly " said Wood. He was a tall and burly sixth year and, at the moment, his eyes were gleaming with a crazed enthusiasm. "It's part of our new training program. Come on, grab your broom, and let's go," said Wood heartily.

"None of the other teams have started training yet; we're going to be first off the mark this year-"

Yawning and shivering slightly, Harry climbed out of bed and tried to find his Quidditch robes.

"Good man," said Wood. "Meet you on the field in fifteen minutes. When he'd found his scarlet team robes and pulled on his cloak for warmth, Harry scribbled a note to Ron explaining where he'd gone and went down the spiral staircase to the common room, his Nimbus Two Thousand on his shoulder. He had just reached the portrait hole when there was a clatter behind him and Colin Creevey came dashing down the spiral staircase, his camera swinging madly around his neck and something clutched in his hand.

"I heard someone saying your name on the stairs, Harry! Look what I've got here! I've had it developed, I wanted to show you-"

Harry looked bemusedly at the photograph Colin was brandishing under his nose. A moving, black-and-white Lockhart was tugging hard on an arm Harry recognized as his own. He was pleased to see that his photographic self was putting up a good fight and refusing to be dragged into view. As Harry watched, Lockhart gave up and slumped, panting, against the white edge of the picture.

"Will you sign it?" said Colin eagerly.

"No," said Harry flatly, glancing around to check that the room was really deserted. "Sorry, Colin, I'm in a hurry-Quidditch practice-" He climbed through the portrait hole.

"Oh, wow! Wait for me! I've never watched a Quidditch game before!" Colin scrambled through the hole after him.

"It'll be really boring," Harry said quickly, but Colin ignored him, his face shining with excitement.

"You were the youngest House player in a hundred years, weren't you, Harry? Weren't you?" said Colin, trotting alongside him. "You must be brilliant. I've never flown. Is it easy? Is that your own broom? Is that the best one there is?"

Harry didn't know how to get rid of him. It was like having an extremely talkative shadow.

"I don't really understand Quidditch," said Colin breathlessly. "Is it true there are four balls? And two of them fly around trying to knock people off their brooms?"

"Yes," said Harry heavily, resigned to explaining the complicated rules of Quidditch. "They're called Bludgers. There are two Beaters on each team who carry clubs to beat the Bludgers away from their side. Fred and George Weasley are the Gryffindor Beaters. "

"And what are the other balls for?" Colin asked, tripping down a couple of steps because he was gazing open-mouthed at Harry.

"Well, the Quaffle-that's the biggish red one-is the one that scores goals. Three Chasers on each team throw the Quaffle to each other and try and get it through the goal posts at the end of the pitch-they're three long poles with hoops on the end. "

"And the fourth ball-"

"is the Golden Snitch, " said Harry, "and it's very small, very fast, and difficult to catch. But that's what the Seeker's got to do, because a game of Quidditch doesn't end until the Snitch has been caught. And whichever team's Seeker gets the Snitch earns his team an extra hundred and fifty points."

"And you're the Gryffindor Seeker, aren't you?" said Colin in awe.

"Yes," said Harry as they left the castle and started across the dew drenched grass. "And there's the Keeper, too. He guards the goal posts. That's it, really."

But Colin didn't stop questioning Harry all the way down the sloping lawns to the Quidditch field, and Harry only shook him off when he reached the changing rooms; Colin called after him in a piping voice, "I'll go and get a good seat, Harry!" and hurried off to the stands. The rest of the Gryffindor team were already in the changing room.

Wood was the only person who looked truly awake.

Arthur's POV

Arthur sighed as Alfred (And Matthew) Dragged him to the quidditch pit to watch practice. They found a seat next to a first year with a camera, named Colin.

"Look this way Harry!" The kid with the camera shouted.

Alfred laughed and Arthur (And Matthew) kept watching the game.

"It reminds me of hockey~." The Canadian said happily, "And basketball, and baseball and football." He trailed off. "It's like a mix of all sports."

Arthur smiled, Matthew had always liked hockey and those kinds of sports, and Quidditch was like a mix of a lot of sports. Alfred also seemed to like the game.

"Hey, isn't this Gryffindor practice?" Arthur asked.

"Ya why Iggy dude?" Alfred asked back.

"Because there's a group of Slytherin." Arthur answered trying to see who was there.

"Let's go!" Alfred said pulling both Matthew and Alfred to the field.

"Let's go?"

"Let's go!"

They made their way to the middle of the field where everyone else was.

"Flint!" Wood bellowed at the Slytherin Captain. "This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!"

Marcus Flint was even larger than Wood. He had a look of trollish cunning on his face as he replied, "Plenty of room for all of us, Wood."

Angelina, Alicia, and Katie had come over, too. There were no girls on the Slytherin team, who stood shoulder to shoulder, facing the Gryffindors, leering to a man.

"But I booked the field!" said Wood, positively spitting with rage. "I booked it!"

"Ah, " said Flint.

"But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. `I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker.'"

"You've got a new Seeker?" said Wood, distracted.

"Where?" And from behind the six large figures before them came a seventh, smaller boy, smirking all over his pale, pointed face. It was Draco Malfoy.

"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" said Fred, looking at Malfoy with dislike. "Funny you should mention Draco's father," said Flint as the whole Slytherin team smiled still more broadly. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team."

All seven of them held out their broomsticks. Seven highly polished, brand-new handles and seven sets of fine gold lettering spelling the words Nimbus Two Thousand and One gleamed under the Gryffindors' noses in the early morning sun.

"Very latest model. Only came out last month," said Flint carelessly, flicking a speck of dust from the end of his own. "I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps"-he smiled nastily at Fred and George, who were both clutching Cleansweep Fives—

"Sweeps the board with them."

None of the Gryffindor team could think of anything to say for a moment.

Malfoy was smirking so broadly his cold eyes were reduced to slits.

"Oh, look," said Flint. "A field invasion."

Ron and Hermione were crossing the grass to see what was going on, Alfred, Arthur and Matthew went to the front of the crowd.

"What's happening?" Ron asked Harry. "Why aren't you playing? And what's he doing here?"

He was looking at Malfoy, taking in his Slytherin Quidditch robes.

"I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley," said Malfoy, smugly.

"Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team. Ron gaped, open-mouthed, at the seven superb broomsticks in front of him.

"Good, aren't they?" said Malfoy smoothly.

"Why is he showing of the fact he bought himself onto the team?" Alfred and Matthew both asked at the same time, Malfoy was really just making a fool of himself if you read between the lines, or in this case listened.

"Too many people spend money they haven't earned, to buy things they don't want, to impress people they don't like." Arthur sighed. (Quote from Will smith)

"But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them." The Slytherin team howled with laughter as Malfoy's comment.

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," said Hermione sharply. "They got in on pure talent." The smug look on Malfoy's face flickered.

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood," he spat.

Arthur had a look of pure rage on his face… only Matthew and Alfred saw it because of the chaos that came next.

Harry's POV

There was an instant uproar at his Malfoy's words. Flint had to dive in front of Malfoy to stop Fred and George jumping on him, Alicia shrieked, "How dare you!"; and Ron plunged his hand into his robes, pulled out his wand, yelling, "You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" and pointed it furiously under Flint's arm at Malfoy's face. A loud bang echoed around the stadium and a jet of green light shot out of the wrong end of Ron's wand, hitting him in the stomach and sending him reeling backward onto the grass.

"Ron! Ron! Are you all right?" squealed Hermione. Ron opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead he gave an almighty belch and several slugs dribbled out of his mouth onto his lap. The Slytherin team were paralyzed with laughter.

Until Arthur stepped in.

"In all my years…" Harry barely heard him mutter.

"What do you want fairy wand boy?" The head captain of Slytherin taunted.

Arthur punched him in the face.

"Ouch! You'll pay for that!" The Captain shouted.

Arthur said nothing and as a curse was sent at him he simply ducked, and kicked out his leg, knocking the captain down.

"How dare you say such a thing?" Arthur growled at Malfoy, Arthur did not look happy

"What? You don't even have a proper wand, and you're a First year." Malfoy smirked, but a little shaken that his quidditch team captain had fainted. Yes fainted.

Arthur stood still for a moment, then spoke; "Apologize."

"What, I will not apologize to some filth-." But before Malfoy could even finish the sentence or anyone could even blink he was out like a light.

"H-Hey!" A Slytherin shouted.

"Traitor!" Shouted another, but Arthur ignored them.

"Someone better apologize." Was all Arthur said.

A few of them ran off with a mutter of sorry.

Alfred and Matthew were standing on the other side of the field, away from Arthur.

Arthur's eyes were seemed to have darkened when this all happened and then they regained their usual light, Alfred and Matthew slowly made their way back.

The Gryffindors were all shocked at what had just happened, but after a few moment Ron belched up some slugs and the Gryffindors gathered around him wanting to help… but no one wanted to go near him.

"We'd better get him to Hagrid's, it's nearest," said Harry to Hermione, who nodded bravely, and the pair of them pulled Ron up by the arms.

"We can help." Alfred said, cautiously looking towards Arthur who followed them as they made their way to the hut.

"What happened, Harry? What happened? Is he ill? But you can cure him, can't you?" Colin had rundown from his seat and was now dancing alongside them as they left the field. Ron gave a huge heave and more slugs dribbled down his front.

"Oooh," said Colin, fascinated and raising his camera. "Can you hold him still, Harry?"

"This isn't the time for pictures!" Arthur snapped.

"Get out of the way, Colin!" said Harry angrily. He and Hermione supported Ron out of the stadium and across the grounds toward the edge of the forest.

"Nearly there, Ron," said Hermione as the gamekeeper's cabin came into view. "You'll be all right in a minute—almost there-"

Harry's POV

They were within twenty feet of Hagrid's house when the front door opened, but it wasn't Hagrid who emerged.

Gilderoy Lockhart, wearing robes of palest mauve today, came striding out.

"Quick, behind here," Harry hissed, dragging Ron behind a nearby bush. Hermione followed, some-what reluctantly.

"It's a simple matter if you know what you're doing!" Lockhart was saying loudly to Hagrid. "If you need help, you know where I am! I'll let you have a copy of my book. I'm surprised you haven't already got one-I'll sign one tonight and send it over. Well, good-bye!" And he strode away toward the castle.

Harry waited until Lockhart was out of sight, then pulled Ron out of the bush and up to Hagrid's front door. They knocked urgently. Hagrid appeared at once, looking very grumpy, but his expression brightened when he saw who it was.

"Bin wonderin' when you'd come ter see me-come in, come in-thought you mighta bin Professor Lockhart back again-" Harry and Hermione supported Ron over the threshold into the one roomed cabin, which had an enormous bed in one corner, a fire crackling merrily in the other. Alfred And Matthew kept looking at Arthur cautiously.

Hagrid didn't seem perturbed by Ron's slug problem, which Harry hastily explained as he lowered Ron into a chair.

"Better out than in," he said cheerfully, plunking a large copper basin in front of him.

"Get 'em all up, Ron."

"I don't think there's anything to do except wait for it to stop," said Hermione anxiously, watching Ron bend over the basin.

"That's a difficult curse to work at the best of times, but with a broken wand-" Hagrid was bustling around making them tea. His boarhound, Fang, was slobbering over Harry.

"What did Lockhart want with you, Hagrid?" Harry asked, scratching Fang's ears.

"Givin' me advice on gettin' kelpies out of a well," growled Hagrid, moving a half-plucked rooster off his scrubbed table and setting down the teapot.

"Like I don' know. An' bangin' on about some banshee he banished. If one word of it was true, I'll eat my kettle."

It was most unlike Hagrid to criticize a Hogwarts' teacher, and Harry looked at him in surprise. Hermione, however, said in a voice somewhat higher than usual, "I think you're being a bit unfair. Professor Dumbledore obviously thought he was the best man for the job-"

"He was the on'y man for the job," said Hagrid, offering them a plate of treacle fudge, while Ron coughed into his basin.

Alfred, Matthew and Arthur were all sitting strangely quietly on the floor (There were no more chairs)

"An' I mean the on' one. Gettin' very difficult ter find anyone fer the Dark Arts job. People aren't too keen ter take it on, see. They're startin' ter think it's jinxed. No one's lasted long fer a while now. So tell me, " said Hagrid, jerking his head at Ron. "Who was he tryin' ter curse?"

"Malfoy called Hermione something-it must've been really bad, because everyone went wild. "

"It was bad," said Ron hoarsely, emerging over the tabletop looking pale and sweaty.

"Malfoy called her `Mudblood, ' Hagrid-" Ron dived out of sight again as a fresh

Arthur seemed to growl again and Alfred and Matthew moved away from him.

Harry looked curiously at Arthur, then back to Hagrid and of slugs made their appearance. Hagrid looked outraged.

"He didn'!" he growled at Hermione.

"He did," she said. "But I don't know what it means. I could tell it was really rude, of course-"

"Yeah… Ig-Arthur never told us what it meant… Alfred said a little quiet which was out of character.

"It's about the most insulting thing he could think of," gasped Ron, coming back up. "Mudblood's are a really foul name for someone who is Muggle-born-you know, non-magic parents. There are some wizards-like Malfoy's family-who think they're better than everyone else because they're what people call pure-blood." He gave a small burp, and a single slug fell into his outstretched hand. He threw it into the basin and continued, "I mean, the rest of us know it doesn't make any difference at all."

"Exactly." Arthur agreed, and Ron seemed a bit surprised. (But not really considering what happened earlier.

"Look at Neville Longbottom-he's pure-blood and he can hardly stand a cauldron the right way up." Ron continued.

"An' they haven't invented a spell our Hermione can' do," said Hagrid proudly, making Hermione go a brilliant shade of magenta.

"It's a disgusting thing to call someone," said Ron, wiping his sweaty brow with a shaking hand. "Dirty blood, see. Common blood. It's ridiculous. Most wizards these days are half-blood anyway. If we hadn't married Muggles we'd' ve died out. " He retched and ducked out of sight again.

"There isn't a thing closer to the truth." Arthur agreed.

"Well, I don' blame yeh fer tryin' ter curse him, Ron," said Hagrid loudly over the thuds of more slugs hitting the basin. "Bu' maybe it was a good thing yer wand backfired. 'Spect Lucius Malfoy would've come marchin' up ter school if yeh'd cursed his son. Least yer not in trouble. "

"But then what about Arthur?" Matthew said worriedly.

"Huh?" Hagrid asked.

"Oh Arthur's… our friend, in Slytherin." Ron said, still coughing up slugs.

Arthur gave a small smile.

"Err… What about Arthur then?"

"He knocked out the quidditch captain and Malfoy."

Hermione realizing how bad it had been almost dropped her jaw.

"He's going to be expelled!" She said in terror.

Alfred and Matthew were still far away from Arthur.

"No need to worry, if I get expelled it would be from my own actions." Arthur smiled.

"Harry." said Hagrid abruptly as though struck by a sudden thought. "Gotta bone ter pick with yeh. I've heard you've bin givin' out signed photos. How come I haven't got one?"

Furious, Harry wrenched his teeth apart. "I have not been giving out signed photos," he said hotly. "If Lockhart's still spreading that around-" But then he saw that Hagrid was laughing.

"I'm on'y jokin'," he said, patting Harry genially on the back and sending him face first into the table.

"I knew yeh hadn't really. I told Lockhart yeh didn' need teh. Yer more famous than him without tryin'."

"Bet he didn't like that," said Harry, sitting up and rubbing his chin.

"Don' think he did," said Hagrid, his eyes twinkling. "An' then I told him I'd never read one o' his books an' he decided ter go. Treacle fudge, Ron?" he added as Ron reappeared.

"No thanks," said Ron weakly. "Better not risk it. ""Come an' see what I've bin growin', " said Hagrid as Harry and Hermione finished the last of their tea.

Arthur, Alfred and Matthew stayed inside with Ron.

"Can't believe I'm saying this but, that was bloody brilliant." Ron said coughing up slugs. "You knocked them right out and easily dodged the curse. Better yet you knocked Malfoy out!"

Arthur smiled; "Truce?"

Ron came up from the bucket and smiled as well; "Friends."

Never call someone a Mudblood in front of Arthur he will go pirate on you.

I think Arthur would be angry if someone called someone a Mudblood don't you?

Oh yes, Hermione didn't forget her question, or that time on the train, or the letter.

The clues are slowly growing.

Random thing: It's 3:55 am. I tend to write before I sleep, don't I?

And sorry about any OOCness I'm always paranoid about that stuff whenever I write, I always think 'That character wouldn't say that./that doesn't seem right/ why would that happen/how would that work?'

Sorry for taking so long to update I haven't had much time, so I made a long chapter for you guys to enjoy! I will try to update faster! Also France wasn't in this chapter a lot, but he will be soon so don't worry~!

Also thank you everyone who's been reviewing, I appreciate it!

Oh yes. The moustache made me do it~! (That review made my day~! Thank you SilverHeart97)

I give you all a big thank you~!

_**THANK YOU~!**_


	10. Chapter ten: Answered, but Unknown

This first part is kind of just a little explanation lol, I had it in the last chapter but I made England go to second year for 4,000 words then I was like WAIT… he's in first year. Shoot. Got to restart. And then I forgot it lol…

FLASHSBACK How France got England's wand…

"Ohonon! Now is time for some fun~!" France said as he crept down his dorm room and towards the dungeon.

"England won't know what has hit him!" France quietly laughed.

France came down to the entrance of the dungeon and whispered the password he had got from a silly first year girl. He crept up the stairs until he was at the Boy Slytherins' Dorm.

He opened the first door of the left and crept in struggling not to laugh at how easy this was.

He crept over to England's bed and sat down in front of his school trunk, which had a lock on it.

"ohononon~!" France quietly laughed as he took out his wand and whispered, "Alohomora." Which surprisingly worked, but France knew not to be so sure, knowing England there was at least one more thing to get by…

France quickly ducked as he saw something red flash in front of his eyes, he backed up and looked up, it was a red punching glove attached to a spring like a jack-in-the box toy.

"It almost hit my beautiful face!" France whispered as he took out the fairy wand.

He quickly wrote a small note and attached it.

"Alright time for the switcheroo ohononon~!" France looked around and saw England's cloak, he crept over to it and pulled out the wand, switching it with the fairy one in the process.

"That was so easy. I cannot wait to see the look on Arthur's face when he takes that wand out." France whispered.

"OHONONON~!" He then laughed loudly, waking only one person.

"Wh-Intruder!" The first year said quietly, probably just waking up.

"No, no. I know when I am not wanted, I shall leave." France said dramatically and with fake tears, trying to confuse the kid.

France left before the kid said anything else and made his way to the dungeon, that kid would probably think he was just dreaming so it didn't matter.

France almost scarred the other first years. As soon as he got into the room he started laughing.

"What's so funny?" A first year asked annoyed.

"Ohonon~! I'm not yet sure~!" France answered and wondered of to bed.

END FLASHBACK AND BACK TO THE STORY~!

They said goodbye to Hagrid and walked back up to the castle, Ron hiccoughing occasionally, but only bringing up two very small slugs. They had barely set foot in the cool entrance hall when a voice rang out, "There you are, Potter-Weasley." Professor McGonagall was walking toward them, looking stern. "You will both do your detentions this evening."

"And you as well Kirkland." She continued as Arthur walked in. "Professor Snape and I agreed you would all share the same detention."

"What're we doing, Professor?" said Ron, nervously suppressing a burp. "You and Kirkland will be polishing the silver in the trophy room with Mr. Filch," said Professor McGonagall.

"And no magic, Weasley-elbow grease." Ron gulped.

Argus Filch, the caretaker, was loathed by every student in the school. "And you, Potter, will be helping Professor Lockhart answer his fan mail," said Professor McGonagall.

"Oh no-Professor, can't I go and do the trophy room, too?" said Harry desperately. "

Certainly not," said Professor McGonagall, raising her eyebrows. "Professor Lockhart requested you particularly. Eight o'clock sharp, all of you."

Harry and Ron slouched into the Great Hall in states of deepest gloom, Hermione behind them, wear-ing a well-you-did-break-school rules sort of expression. Harry didn't enjoy his shepherd's pie as much as he'd thought. Both he and Ron felt they'd got the worse deal.

"Filch will have me there all night," said Ron heavily. "No magic! There must be about a hundred cups in that room. I'm no good at Muggle cleaning."

"You said Iggy is going to right? He always polishes trophies and stuff, His house is like a museum HAHAHA~!" Alfred laughed then took a bite out of his hamburger.

"What, how is it like a museum?" Hermione asked.

"Lots of artifacts and stuff." Alfred answered then started drinking his soda.

"I'd swap anytime," said Harry hollowly. "I've had loads of practice with the Dursleys. Answering Lock-hart's fan mail... He'll be a nightmare... "

Saturday afternoon seemed to melt away, and in what seemed like no time, it was five minutes to eight, and Harry was dragging his feet along the second-floor corridor to Lockhart's office. Arthur and Ron made their way to the trophy room.

Arthur's POV

"What kind of punishment is this anyway?" Ron sighed scrubbing a trophy.

Arthur shrugged, "It's not too hard, especially if you have help."

"By the way, Arthur." Ron said as he stooped polishing.

"What made you so fast?" Ron asked.

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked hoping he was referring to the trophies.

"On the field, you took out Malfoy before anyone could even blink! It was bloody awesome but how did you do that?" Ron asked finishing the trophy and putting it down.

"Just had lots of training that's all ahahaha~!" Arthur answered awkwardly.

"Err alright."

"Hey Weasley, Buff up that Quidditch cup!" Filch said angrily.

"Again?" Ron sighed.

Arthur continued to buff up the trophies on his side and Ron did the same, until Ron had a slug attack all over a special award.

"Clean that up!" Filch shouted.

Ron cleaned it up, but it took a while.

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked Ron.

"Ya, I think it's gone now."

The two continued to work in silence and finally were able to leave.

Harry's POV

Ron wasn't back yet. Harry pulled on his pajamas, got into bed, and waited. Half an hour later, Ron arrived, nursing his right arm and bringing a strong smell of polish into the darkened room. "

My muscles have all seized up," he groaned, sinking on his bed. "Fourteen times he made me buff up that Quidditch cup before he was satisfied. And then I had another slug attack all over a Special Award for Services to the School. Took ages to get the slime off... How was it with Lockhart?"

Keeping his voice low so as not to wake Neville, Dean, and Seamus, Harry told Ron exactly what he had heard.

"And Lockhart said he couldn't hear it?" said Ron.

Harry could see him frowning in the moonlight. "D'you think he was lying? But I don't get it-even someone invisible would've had to open the door."

"I know," said Harry, lying back in his four-poster and staring at the canopy above him. "I don't get it either."

October arrived, spreading a damp chill over the grounds and into the castle. Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, was kept busy by a sudden spate of colds among the staff and students. Her Pepper up potion worked instantly, though it left the drinker smoking at the ears for several hours afterward. Ginny Weasley, who had been looking pale, was bullied into taking some by Percy. The steam pouring from under her vivid hair gave the impression that her whole head was on fire.

Raindrops the size of bullets thundered on the castle windows for days on end; the lake rose, the flower beds turned into muddy streams, and Hagrid's pumpkins swelled to the size of garden sheds. Oliver Wood's enthusiasm for regular training sessions, however, was not dampened, which was why Harry was to be found, late one stormy Saturday afternoon a few days before Halloween, returning to Gryffindor Tower, drenched to the skin and splattered with mud.

Even aside from the rain and wind it hadn't been a happy practice session. Fred and George, who had been spying on the Slytherin team, had seen for themselves the speed of those new Nimbus Two Thou-sand and Ones. They reported that the Slytherin team was no more than seven greenish blurs, shooting through the air like missiles.

As Harry squelched along the deserted corridor he came across somebody who looked just as preoccupied as he was. Nearly Headless Nick, the ghost of Gryffindor Tower, was staring morosely out of a window, muttering under his breath, "... Don't fulfill their requirements... Half an inch, if that..."

"Hello, Nick," said Harry.

"Hello, hello," said Nearly Headless Nick, starting and looking round. He wore a dashing, plumed hat on his long curly hair, and a tunic with a ruff, which concealed the fact that his neck was almost completely severed. He was pale as smoke, and Harry could see right through him to the dark sky and torrential rain outside.

"You look troubled, young Potter," said Nick, folding a transparent letter as he spoke and tucking it in-side his doublet.

"So do you," said Harry.

"Ah," Nearly Headless Nick waved an elegant hand, "a matter of no importance... It's not as though I really wanted to join... Thought I'd apply, but apparently I 'don't fulfill requirements'."

In spite of his airy tone, there was a look of great bitterness on his face. "But you would think, wouldn't you, " he erupted suddenly, pulling the letter back out of his pocket, "that getting hit forty-five times in the neck with a blunt axe would qualify you to join the Headless Hunt?"

"Oh-yes," said Harry, who was obviously supposed to agree.

"Hey Harry dude ! What's up, I've got a question for ya- HOLY MACORONI A FFRICMKEN GHOST MATTIE IGGY I'LL SAVE YOU, STRATEGIC RETREAT! Alfred ended with a shout and ran off to go 'save them from the ghosts'. Actually he was just running away.

Nick sighed, "Two years and he still isn't used to any of us ghosts." And continued his story.

Arthur's POV

England was outside under a tree humming a song when Hermione came by.

"Hello Hermione." He greeted.

"Hello Arthur." She replied sitting down and placing her books. "I had a question for you."

Arthur had to keep himself from becoming stiff, what did she know? She was a very smart girl after all.

"You have a French friend don't you?" Hermione asked and Arthur almost sighed in relief.

"What did he do?" Arthur sighed.

"Wh- oh he didn't do anything I was just wondering if you or he knew what L'Angleterre means." Hermione answered quickly.

"It means England, why?" Arthur replied without thinking.

"Because I found this after the second years Defence against the dark arts class a while ago…" Hermione said pulling out the note and showing it to Arthur.

_**L'Angleterre, **_

_**Ohonon~! You weren't expecting that were you? I have pranked you once again~! Have fun finding it! Ohonon~!**_

'…Bloody hell…' Arthur thought.

"Hmm… strange way to introduce a letter." Arthur said trying to remain calm.

"That's what I thought as well." Hermione said.

"Also I think it was Francis because he's the only one who would laugh like that." Hermione continued looking at Arthur.

"He does, doesn't he?" Arthur tried to go along.

"And I'm almost positive he called someone L'Angleterre before. On the train. But it doesn't make any sense." Hermione continued. "there's a lot of strange things going, and I need your Help to solve them."

"My help?" Arthur asked a bit shocked.

"Yes, you can remember things about Merlin without even thinking twice, I've heard of you from your classmates and you're really good. If we work together we can find out what it is." Hermione then sighed, "Or maybe I'm just being paranoid.

"I'll Help." Arthur confirmed, Hermione was the one questioning Alfred last year wasn't she? So if Arthur helped he would be able to know what they had found out.

"Thanks! Now I just need to ask Alfred!" Hermione said happily.

If Arthur was drinking his tea he would have done a spit take, but before he could say anything Hermione rushed off.

'oh no…'

Alfred's POV

"Hey Alfred!" Hermione called to an Alfred hiding behind a tree.

"Shh! The ghost might here you!" Alfred whispered loudly.

"There's no ghosts' here right now." Hermione almost sighed.

"Oh alright then!" Alfred said hopping out from behind the tree.

"Okay Alfred, I need your help." Hermione said.

"HAHAHA~! Of course I'll help! I am a hero after all!"

"Do you know anyone who Francis calls L'Angleterre?" Hermione asked.

"England?" Alfred answered/asked.

"Yes." Hermione answered, waiting to see if he knew the answer

"If you already knew then why'd you ask, you're so funny dude!" Alfred laughed and wondered off.

"What just happened?" Hermione asked herself, very confused.


	11. Chapter eleven: Trouble

Two things! First sorry for the wait and two my birthday was June 4th: D

On to the chapter~!

Harry's POV

"Oh Harry- there you are! I need to talk to you and Ron." Hermione said as Harry came into the common room.

"What is it Hermione?" Harry asked.

"L' angleterre, it means England." Hermione stated.

"Why would someone write a letter addressed England?" Ron asked.

"I'm not sure but I know I heard Francis call someone that on the train." Hermione continued.

"Who do you think he was talking to?" Ron asked again.

"I'm not sure… I don't quite… remember that well." Hermione said embarrassed.

"You, don't remember?" Harry and Ron asked surprised.

"Well… Let's just say don't eat Arthur's cooking."

Harry and Ron decided to leave that topic at that and continue on.

"Any way I asked Alfred if he knew anyone Francis called L' angleterre." Hermione continued

"Did he?" Ron asked, interrupting.

"Hold on, I'm getting there." Hermione said sighing, "And he… I'm not sure if he answered or asked but he said England."

"Maybe he was asking if that's what you meant by L' angleterre?" Ron suggested.

Hermione shook her head, "I then said yes and he asked me if I already knew why did I ask."

Ron and Harry had a puzzled look on their faces.

Alfred then walked into the room happily.

"Hey Dudes! Whacha talkin 'bout?" Alfred said happily and loudly walking over.

"Not much, just talking about Nick's death party." Harry answered a bit quickly.

Alfred eyes widened and he 'retreated' to the door shouting, "HAHAHA look at the time, gotta go, bye!"

"A death day party?" said Hermione keenly after Alfred had left, temporarily forgetting their previous conversation.

"I bet there aren't many living people who can say they've been to one of those-it'll be fascinating!"

"Why would anyone want to celebrate the day they died?" said Ron, who was halfway through his Potions homework and grumpy.

"Sounds dead depressing to me..." Rain was still lashing the windows, which were now inky black, but inside all looked bright and cheerful. The firelight glowed over the countless squashy armchairs where people sat reading, talking, doing homework or, in the case of Fred and George Weasley, trying to find out what would happen if you fed a Filibuster firework to a salamander. Fred had "rescued" the brilliant orange, fire-dwelling lizard from a Care of Magical Creatures class and it was now smouldering gently on a table surrounded by a knot of curious people.

Harry was at the point of telling Ron and Hermione about Filch and the Kwikspell course when the salamander suddenly whizzed into the air, emitting loud sparks and bangs as it whirled wildly round the room. The sight of Percy bellowing himself hoarse at Fred and George, the spectacular display of tangerine stars showering from the salamander's mouth, and its escape into the fire, with accompanying explosions, drove both Filch and the Kwikspell envelope from Harry's mind. By the time Halloween arrived, Harry was regretting his rash promise to go to the death day party.

The rest of the school was happily anticipating their Halloween feast; the Great Hall had been decorated with the usual live bats, Hagrid's vast pumpkins had been carved into lanterns large enough for three men to sit in and there were rumors that Dumbledore had booked a troupe of dancing skeletons for the entertainment.

"A promise is a promise," Hermione reminded Harry bossily. "You said you'd go to the death day party."

So at seven o'clock, Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked straight past the doorway to the packed Great Hall, which was glittering invitingly with gold plates and candles, and directed their steps instead toward the dungeons.

Arthur's POV

Arthur had still no luck in finding his wand, every time he went to Francis for answers the French man would disappear. It was now Halloween and Arthur was sitting at the Gryffindor table with Arthur and Matthew, who he just noticed. Not to many Gryffindor's cared he was there, because of what had happened, but the Slytherins did.

"Eh, Alfred can you pass the maple syrup?" The Canadian quietly asked.

"Sure bro-… who are you?" Alfred said as he passed the maple syrup.

"I'm Matthew…" Matthew sighed and Alfred laughed loudly.

"Only joking bro, I know your Mattie." Alfred then swallowed a burger.

Arthur was eating some scones that he had made himself.

"I've got… a bad feeling…" Arthur announced unsurely.

"It's probably that food your eat-"Alfred started.

"It's not the bloody food you git! And my cooking is fine thank you very much!" The Slytherin shouted, causing some heads to turn in their direction.

Alfred shrugged.

"Kill… time to kill…" a voice echoed.

Arthur looked around confused, Parseltongue, but who? Who was speaking it.

"Hahaha, dude?" Alfred asked confused by Arthur.

"Quiet." Arthur said waiting; he then sat straight up, as if he was pinched.

"Be right back. Stay there!" Arthur then walked quickly out of the great hall.

Arthur quickly walked through the corridors, something was wrong and he knew it. Something was shining on the wall ahead. Arthur approached slowly, squinting through the darkness. Foot-high words had been daubed on the wall between two windows, shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HAIR, BEWARE.

Arthur's eyes widened, The Chamber of Secrets? It's been about fifty years!

"What's that thing-hanging underneath?" said Ron, a slight quiver in his voice.

Arthur turned around to see the trio and then the other way to see Alfred and Matthew running over.

"Hey Arthur! Why'd you run off like that dud- wow…" Alfred said looking at the thing hanging underneath.

As the trio edged nearer, Harry almost slipped-there was a large puddle of water on the floor; Ron and Hermione grabbed him, and they inched toward the message, eyes fixed on a dark shadow beneath it. All three of them realized what it was at once, and leapt backward with a splash. Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat, was hanging by her tail from the torch bracket. She was stiff as aboard, her eyes wide and staring. For a few seconds, they didn't move.

Ron looked at Arthur as if expecting an answer, Arthur answered truthfully,

"I heard voices."

Arthur almost smacked himself, that had come out wrong.

"I heard the voice too." Harry said.

Arthur looked over to Harry, He couldn't be the parselmouth from earlier, so there were three of them.

Then Ron said, "Let's get out of here."

"Shouldn't we try and help-" Harry began awkwardly.

"Trust me," said Ron. "We don't want to be found here."

But it was too late. A rumble, as though of distant thunder, told them that the feast had just ended. From either end of the corridor where they stood came the sound of hundreds of feet climbing the stairs, and the loud, happy talk of well-fed people; next moment, students were crashing into the pas-sage from both ends. The chatter, the bustle, the noise died suddenly as the people in front spotted the hanging cat.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood on one side, Arthur, Alfred and Matthew on the other, in the middle of the corridor, as silence fell among the mass of students pressing forward to see the grisly sight. Then someone shouted through the quiet.

"Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!" It was Draco Malfoy. He had pushed to the front of the crowd, his cold eyes alive, his usually bloodless face flushed, as he grinned at the sight of the hanging, immobile cat.

Harry's POV

Alfred and Matthew both grabbed one of Arthur's arms and held him back… well Alfred held him back.

"You bloody git! Don't you see! This is no joke!" Arthur shouted. Loudly. Then started chanting something… holding his fairy wand. Both Alfred and Matthew let go of him.

"What's going on here? What's going on?" Attracted no doubt by Malfoy's and Arthur's shouting, Argus Filch came shouldering his way through the crowd. Then he saw Mrs. Norris and fell back, clutching his face in horror.

Something seemed to pop out of the ground but it sounded like someone pushed it back in saying, "I wasn't calling you!"

"My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs. Norris?" he shrieked. And his popping eyes fell on Harry.

"You!" he screeched. "You! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll-"

"Argus!" Dumbledore had arrived on the scene, followed by a number of other teachers. In seconds, he had swept past Harry, Ron, and Hermione and detached Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket. "Come with me, Argus," he said to Filch. "You, too, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, ,Mr. Jones , Mr. Jon-es?."

"Matthew Williams…" Matthew corrected quietly.

" ."

Lockhart stepped forward eagerly. "My office is nearest, Headmaster-just upstairs-please feel free-"

"Thank you, Gilderoy," said Dumbledore.

The silent crowd parted to let them pass. Lockhart, looking excited and important, hurried after Dumbledore; so did Professors McGonagall and Snape. As they entered Lockhart's darkened office there was a flurry of movement across the walls; Harry saw several of the Lockharts in the pictures dodging out of sight, their hair in rollers.

The real Lockhart lit the candles on his desk and stood back. Dumbledore lay Mrs. Norris on the polished surface and began to examine her. Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged tense looks and sank into chairs outside the pool o candlelight, watching.

The tip of Dumbledore's long, crooked nose was barely an inch from Mrs. Norris's fur. He was looking at her closely through his half-moon spectacles, his long fingers gently prodding and poking. Professor McGonagall was bent almost as close, her eyes narrowed. Snape loomed behind them, half in shadow, wearing a most peculiar expression: It was as though he was trying hard not to smile. And Lockhart was hovering around all of them, making suggestions.

"It was definitely a curse that killed her-probably the Transmogrifian Torture-I've seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn't there, I know the very counter-curse that would have saved her ... . Lockhart's comments were punctuated by Filch's dry, racking sobs.

He was slumped in a chair by the desk, unable to look at Mrs. Norris, his face in his hands. Much as he detested Filch, Harry couldn't help feeling a bit sorry for him, though not nearly as sorry as he felt for himself If Dumbledore believed Filch, he would be expelled for sure. Dumbledore was now muttering strange words under his breath and tapping Mrs. Norris with his wand but nothing happened: She continued to look as though she had been recently stuffed.

"... I remember something very similar happening in Ouagadougou, " said Lockhart, "a series of attacks, the full story's in my autobiography, I was able to provide the townsfolk with various amulets, which cleared the matter up at once... "

The photographs of Lockhart on the walls were all nodding in agreement as he talked. One of them had forgotten to remove his hair net.

"What a loud up rubbish…" Harry heard Arthur sigh.

At last Dumbledore straightened up.

"She's not dead, Argus, " he said softly. Lockhart stopped abruptly in the middle of counting the number of murders he had prevented.

"Not dead?" choked Filch, looking through his fingers at Mrs. Norris. "But why's she all-all stiff and frozen?"

"She has been Petrified, " said Dumbledore calmly, and Arthur loudly and annoyed.

("Ah! I thought so!" said Lockhart).

"But how, I cannot say... "

"Ask him!" shrieked Filch, turning his blotched and tearstained face to Harry.

"No second year could have done this, " said Dumbledore firmly. "it would take Dark Magic of the most advanced-"

"He did it, he did it!" Filch spat, his pouchy face purpling. "You saw what he wrote on the wall! He found-in my office-he knows I'm a-I'm a-" Filch's face worked horribly. "He knows I'm a Squib!" he finished. "

I never touched Mrs. Norris!" Harry said loudly, uncomfortably aware of everyone looking at him, including all the Lockharts on the walls. "And I don't even know what a Squib is."

"Rubbish!" snarled Filch.

"He saw my Kwikspell letter!"

"Hey! Harry's my sidekick so obviously he's innocent!" Alfred said loudly as if it was obvious.

"If I might speak, Headmaster," said Snape from the shadows, and Harry's sense of foreboding in-creased; he was sure nothing Snape had to say was going to do him any good.

"Potter and his friends may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time," he said, a slight sneer curling his mouth as though he doubted it.

"But we do have a set of suspicious circumstances here. Why was he in the upstairs corridor at all? Why wasn't he at the Halloween feast?" Harry, Ron and Hermione all launched into an explanation about the death day party.

"... There were hundreds of ghosts; they'll tell you we were there-"

"But why not join the feast afterward?" said Snape, his black eyes glittering in the candlelight. "Why go up to that corridor?" Ron and Hermione looked at Harry.

"Because-because-" Harry said, his heart thumping very fast; something told him it would sound very far-fetched if he told them he had been led there by a bodiless voice no one but he could hear,

"because we were tired and wanted to go to bed, " he said.

"Without any supper?" said Snape, a triumphant smile flickering across his gaunt face.

"I didn't think ghosts provided food fit for living people at their parties. "

"We weren't hungry, " said Ron loudly as his stomach gave a huge rumble.

Snape's nasty smile widened. "I suggest, Headmaster, that Potter is not being entirely truthful," he said. "It might be a good idea if he were deprived of certain privileges until he is ready to tell us the whole story. I personally feel he should be taken off the Gryffindor Quidditch team until he is ready to be honest. "

"Really, Severus," said Professor McGonagall sharply, "I see no reason to stop the boy playing Quid-ditch. This cat wasn't hit over the head with a broomstick. There is no evidence at all that Potter has done anything wrong."

Dumbledore was giving Harry a searching look. His twinkling light blue gaze made Harry feel as though he were being X-rayed.

"Innocent until proven guilty, Severus," he said firmly. Snape looked furious. So did Filch.

"My cat has been Petrified!" he shrieked, his eyes popping. "I want to see some punishment!"

"We will be able to cure her, Argus," said Dumbledore patiently.

"Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made that will revive Mrs. Norris."

"I'll make it," Lockhart butted in. "I must have done it a hundred times. I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep—"

"Dude- Iggy's Cooking is probably better than Lockhart's potion making." Alfred snickered whispering to Matthew, who also laughed.

"My cooking isn't bad!" Arthur sharply whispered to both of them.

"Excuse me," said Snape icily. "But I believe I am the Potions master at this school." There was a very awkward pause.

"You may go," Dumbledore said to Harry, Ron, and Hermione "Mr. Williams, Mr. Jones and Mr. Kirkland, would you stay for a moment."

Sorry that's all for now, new chapter as soon as I can.


	12. Chapter twelve: Arthur?

Another chapter~!

Dumbledore's POV

Hermione, Ron, Harry and Professor Snape left, leaving only Arthur, Alfred, Matthew, Dumbledore and Lockhart.

"Don't mind me just need to sort my things." Lockhart said as he started re-straightened all of his portraits.

Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling as he inspected the three kids.

"You three were there as well correct?" He asked, the kids nodded.

"You three stay out of trouble and keep an eye out for your friends and each other." Dumbledore said, "You are free to go."

The three wizards left quite confused. Dumbledore smiled softly.

"What was that about?" Lockhart asked not taking his eyes of his portrait.

"It's easy to tell they mean well… I'm not even sure why myself… but something about those three is special." Dumbledore smiled softly still.

Lockhart turned away from his portrait, "Special?"

Dumbledore nodded and got up, "See you in the morning, have a good sleep." And then left.

Matthew's POV

"The chamber of secrets?" Alfred wondered while they walked back, Arthur had gone to the dungeons to his common room. "Sounds familiar…"

"Arthur told us about it, as a story, don't you remember?" Matthew asked quietly.

"Nope."

"Eh…"

Alfred left towards his common room and Matthew went towards his own.

Matthew, however, did not go to sleep. From the story Arthur had told them there was a monster, Arthur hadn't told them what is was so they could use their imaginations, Alfred had thought it was some ghost but Matthew still didn't know. He tried to put the pieces together, the chamber was opened and a cat petrified…

It wasn't much to go by…

But they had another meeting soon, so he would try and ask then…

If anyone noticed…

Harry's POV

When they were a floor up from Lock-hart's office, they turned into an empty classroom and closed the door quietly behind them. Harry squinted at his friends' darkened faces.

"D'you think I should have told them about that voice I heard?"

"No," said Ron, without hesitation. "Hearing voices no one else can hear isn't a good sign, even in the wizarding world. "

Something in Ron's voice made Harry ask, "You do believe me, don't you?"

"Course I do," said Ron quickly. "But -you must admit it's weird... "

"I know it's weird," said Harry.

"The whole thing's weird. What was that writing on the wall about? The Chamber Has Been Opened... What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know, it rings a sort of bell," said Ron slowly. "I think someone told me a story about a secret chamber at Hogwarts once... Might've been Bill..."

"And what on earth's a Squib?" said Harry. To his surprise, Ron stifled a snigger.

"Well-it's not funny really-but as its Filch," he said. "A Squib is someone who was born into a wizard-ing family but hasn't got any magic powers. Kind of the opposite of Muggle-born wizards, but Squibs are quite unusual. If Filch's trying to learn magic from a Kwikspell course, I reckon he must be a Squib. It would explain a lot. Like why he hates students so much." Ron gave a satisfied smile.

"He's bitter."

"Wait a minute…" Hermione said thinking.

"What is it?" Ron asked, yawning.

"Didn't Arthur say he also heard the voices… what if it was what Harry heard?"

A clock chimed somewhere.

"Midnight," said Harry. "We'd better get to bed before Snape comes along and tries to frame us for something else. We'll have to ask them later."

For a few days, the school could talk of little else but the attack on Mrs. Norris. Filch kept it fresh in everyone's minds by pacing the spot where she had been attacked, as though he thought the attacker might come back.

Harry had seen him scrubbing the message on the wall with Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover, but to no effect; the words still gleamed as brightly as ever on the stone. When Filch wasn't guarding the scene of the crime, he was skulking red eyed through the corridors, lunging out at unsuspecting students and trying to put them in detention for things like "breathing loudly' and "look-ing happy."

Ginny Weasley seemed very disturbed by Mrs. Norris's fate. According to Ron, she was a great cat lover.

"But you haven't really got to know Mrs. Norris," Ron told her bracingly. "Honestly, we're much better off without her." Ginny's lip trembled.

"Stuff like this doesn't often happen at Hogwarts," Ron assured her. "They'll catch the maniac who did it and have him out of here in no time. I just hope he's got time to Petrify Filch before he's expelled. I'm only joking-" Ron added hastily as Ginny blanched.

"Don't worry, If anything happens, I'll be the hero!" Alfred said loudly as he had walked into the room.

The attack had also had an effect on Hermione. It was quite usual for Hermione to spend a lot of time reading, but she was now doing almost nothing else. Nor could Harry and Ron get much response from her when they asked what she was up to, and not until the following Wednesday did they find out. Harry had been held back in Potions, where Snape had made him stay behind to scrape tubeworms off the desks. After a hurried lunch, he went upstairs to meet Ron in the library, and saw Justin Finch-Fletchley, the Hufflepuff boy from Herbology, coming toward him.

Harry had just opened his mouth to say hello when Justin caught sight of him, turned abruptly, and sped off in the opposite direction. Harry found Ron at the back of the library, measuring his History of Magic homework. Professor Binns had asked for a three-foot long composition on

"The Medieval Assembly of European Wizards."

"I don't believe it, I'm still eight inches short..." said Ron furiously, letting go of his parchment, which sprang back into a roll. "And Hermione's done four feet seven inches and her writing's tiny. "

"Where is she?" asked Harry, grabbing the tape measure and unrolling his own homework.

"Somewhere over there," said Ron, pointing along the shelves. "Looking for another book. I think she's trying to read the whole library before Christmas. "

Harry told Ron about Justin Finch-Fletchley running away from him. "Dunno why you care. I thought he was a bit of an idiot," said Ron, scribbling away, making his writing as large as possible. "All that junk about Lockhart being so great-"

Hermione emerged from between the bookshelves. She looked irritable and at last seemed ready to talk to them. "All the copies of Hogwarts, A History have been taken out," she said, sitting down next to Harry and Ron. "And there's a two-week waiting list. I wish I hadn't left my copy at home, but I couldn't fit it in my trunk with all the Lockhart books. "

"Why do you want it?" said Harry. "The same reason everyone else wants it, " said Hermione, "to read up on the legend of the Chamber of Secrets. "

"What's that?" said Harry quickly. "That's just it. I can't remember," said Hermione, biting her lip. "And I can't find the story anywhere else-"

"Hermione, let me read your composition," said Ron desperately, checking his watch.

"No, I won't," said Hermione, suddenly severe. "You've had ten days to finish it-"

"I only need another two inches, come on-"

"You could probably ask Iggy for help." Alfred suggested, almost popping out of nowhere.

"You should come to History off magic class for once." Ron replied.

"NO WAY DUDE! THERES A GHOST TEACHING!"

The bell rang. Ron and Hermione led the way to History of Magic, bickering. Alfred left to the common room. History of Magic was the dullest subject on their schedule. Professor Binns, who taught it, was their only ghost teacher, and the most exciting thing that ever happened in his classes was his entering the room through the blackboard. Ancient and shriveled, many people said he hadn't noticed he was dead. He had simply got up to teach one day and left his body behind him in an armchair in front of the staffroom fire; his routine had not varied in the slightest since.

Today was as boring as ever. Professor Binns opened his notes and began to read in a flat drone like an old vacuum cleaner until nearly everyone in the class was in a deep stupor, occasionally coming to long enough to copy down a name or date, then falling asleep again. He had been speaking for half an hour when something happened that had never happened before. Hermione put up her hand. Professor Binns, glancing up in the middle of a deadly dull lecture on the International Warlock Convention of 1289, looked amazed.

"Miss-er -?"

"Granger, Professor. I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets," said Hermione in a clear voice.

Dean Thomas, who had been sitting with his mouth hanging open, gazing out of the window, jerked out of his trance; Lavender Brown's head came up off her arms and Neville Longbottom's elbow slipped off his desk. Professor Binns blinked.

"My subject is History of Magic," he said in his dry, wheezy voice.

"I deal with facts, Miss Granger, not myths and legends." He cleared his throat with a small noise and continued, "In September of that year, a subcommittee of Sardinian sorcerers-" He stuttered to a halt. Hermione's hand was waving in the air again.

"Miss Granger?"

"Please, sir, don't legends always have a basis in fact?" Professor Binns was looking at her in such amazement, Harry was sure no student had ever interrupted him before, alive or dead.

"Well," said Professor Binns slowly, "yes, one could argue that, I suppose." He peered at Hermione as though he had never seen a student properly before. "However, the legend of which you speak is such a very sensational, even ludicrous tale-"

But the whole class was now hanging on Professor Binns's every word. He looked dimly at them all, every face turned to his. Harry could tell he was completely thrown by such an unusual show of interest. "Oh, very well,"

Francis' POV

Francis found it easy to avoid Arthur, Arthur STILL hadn't found his wand, and it was likely he wouldn't, It was also pretty simple where it was hidden Francis smirked patting his pocket.

Francis made his way to the great hall, on his way he saw the 'Golden Trio'. He then walked over, but was almost ran over by an excited first year who ran to Harry.

"Hiya, Harry!"

"Hullo, Colin," said Harry automatically. "Harry-Harry-a boy in my class has been saying you're-"

But Colin was so small he couldn't fight against the tide of people bearing him toward the Great Hall; they heard him squeak, "See you, Harry!" and he was gone.

"What's a boy in his class saying about you?" Hermione wondered out loud.

"That I'm Slytherin's heir, I expect," said Harry, his stomach dropping another inch or so as he suddenly remembered the way Justin Finch Fletchley had run away from him at lunchtime.

"People here'll believe anything." said Ron in disgust. The crowd thinned and they were able to climb the next staircase without difficulty, Francis followed.

"Bonjour~!" He said happily.

"Oh Francis!" Hermione said in surprise, "I Have a question!"

"Of course mademoiselle~?" Francis waited.

"Who do you call L'Angleterre?" Hermione asked.

"W-what?"

"Who do you call England?" Hermione translated.

"I have no idea who you are talking about." Francis shrugged.

"You wrote this didn't you?" Hermione asked pulling out a paper as they got off the stairs, Ron and Harry right behind them.

Francis couldn't help but laugh at the note; "Ohonon~! He still never found his wand~!"

"Wand?" The trio asked at once.

"er…?"

Hermione took the note back.

"Why did you call Arthur England?" The trio all asked at once.


	13. Chapter thirteen: Interupted and Avoided

Sorry for the long wait again, updates will be faster once school is over. Also my E.L.A. teacher said he wanted to read my story :D I wrote about in in one of my journals. :D

On to the story~!

Francis POV

Hermione took the note back.

"Why did you call Arthur England?" The trio all asked at once.

"Well- er I call him L'Angleterre because of er…" Francis started trying to think of something… Anything, that would work and not blow their secret.

"BLOODY GIT!" The curious golden trio and Francis turned around to see a glaring pair of forest green eyes staring straight at Francis.

'What is he so mad about' Francis thought, not remembering about the wand.

"Now that I have finally found you, and you cannot run off again… GIVE ME BACK MY BLOODY WAND!" Arthur shouted.

'Oh yes. That.' Francis remembered.

The golden trio had all taken a cautious step back.

"If you want your wand so bad why don't you come take it?" Francis taunted, trying to find an excuse to avoid the trio's question.

Arthur took a sword from an armour suit next to him.

Francis did the same.

The golden trio backed up a few more steps.

"You can't sword fight!" Hermione tried to stop them.

To late, Arthur had already charged forward with his sword, Francis did the same.

"I will not stand for any of your constant interfering any longer!" Arthur said between the clashes of their swords.

"Why don't you stick to the things your good at like falling and drunk driving?" Arthur continued.

"What, they can't drink! They can't even drive! Their underage!" Hermione said loudly.

Alfred and Matthew made their way to the scene.

"Ha! Shows what you know! It is not drunk driving if you are only drinking wine!" Francis said going for a lung and being blocked by Arthur, they continued to clash their swords.

Hermione gasped in disbelief.

Both stopped sword fighting and Arthur started seeming very creepy…

"Excuse me? I can't hear you." Arthur said.

"No! Don't pull that with me! Listen up Britain! You are the black sheep of Europe!" Francis said not realizing the slip up.

However the entire golden trio heard it.

Alfred walked over next to the golden trio while Francis was singing 'Black sheep of Europe~!'

"Britain's the black sheep of Europe and everybody knows it!" Francis shouted.

Hermione was listening and heard Francis slip up again.

"What? I didn't know that!" Alfred said watching the fight and Arthur seemed shocked.

Arthur then was trying to strangle Francis and Francis was just laughing.

"Why would a frog know anything about sheep!" Arthur said angrily.

Alfred also started laughing; "AHAHAHA!"

Hermione, Ron and Harry had no idea of what to think, And Matthew was holding on to his bear.

Hermione's POV

"Can someone explain what's going on?" Hermione asked stepping forward, a confused look on her face.

"The bloody frog stole my wand."

"HAHAHAHA!"

"L'Angleterre started it."

"There always like this…"

Everyone seemed to say at once.

Hermione looked at all of them.

"I would like some answers." Hermione started. "Francis why do you call Arthur, Britain, England and L'Angleterre?"

Arthur looked angry; "He's always calling me that French name to annoy me."

"He's so fun to annoy~!" Francis interrupted.

"Oh shut it!"

And soon there was another fight.

Anyone wanna get off these stairs and head for some food? Alfred asked loudly over the fighting.

"Ready eh!" Matthew agreed and the two quickly left, avoiding questions.

Hermione was really getting annoyed at the fours' suspicious behaviour.

"Stop fighting!" Hermione yelled, trying to get their attention.

Both stopped in the middle of fighting and looked towards her.

Hermione sighed. "We're heading off now."

The two resumed fighting.

'I will get answers.' Hermione thought determinedly.

Normal POV.

"What the bloody hell was that all about?" Ron asked confused.

"I have no clue." Harry answered.

"They are all hiding something; I'm going to find out what." Hermione told them.

"There ALL hiding something? Are you sure Hermione?" Ron asked.

"OF course! Alfred has superhuman strength, Matthew is always disappearing, even when he's right next to us, Francis calls Arthur England, Britain, L'Angleterre, And when Malfoy called me a- a Mudblood, Matthew and Alfred were backing up like crazy! And Arthur attacked the Slytherins!"

"They do seem a bit suspicious." Harry agreed.

"But still, it can't be that important." Ron pointed out.

As they spoke, they turned a corner and found themselves at the end of the very corridor where the attack on the Filch's cat had happened. They stopped and looked. The scene was just as it had been that night, except that there was no stiff cat hanging from the torch bracket, and an empty chair stood against the wall bearing the message "The Chamber of Secrets has been Opened."

They decided to leave the questioning until later.

"That's where Filch has been keeping guard," Ron muttered. They looked at each other. The corridor was deserted.

"Can't hurt to have a poke around," said Harry, dropping his bag and getting to his hands and knees so that he could crawl along, searching for clues.

"Scorch marks!" he said. "Here-and here-"

"Come and look at this!" said Hermione. "This is funny... "

Harry got up and crossed to the window next to the message on the wall. Hermione was pointing at the topmost pane, where around twenty spiders were scuttling, apparently fighting to get through a small crack. A long, silvery thread was dangling like a rope, as though they had all climbed it in their hurry to get outside.

"Have you ever seen spiders act like that?" said Hermione wonderingly.

"No," said Harry, "have you, Ron? Ron?" He looked over his shoulder. Ron was standing well back and seemed to be fighting the impulse to run.

"What's up?" said Harry.

"I-don't-like-spiders," said Ron tensely.

"I never knew that," said Hermione, looking at Ron in surprise. "You've used spiders in Potions loads of times... "

"I don't mind them dead," said Ron, who was carefully looking anywhere but at the window. "I just don't like the way they move... Hermione giggled. "It's not funny," said Ron, fiercely. "If you must know, when I was three, Fred turned my-my teddy bear into a dirty great spider because I broke his toy broomstick... You wouldn't like them either if you'd been holding your bear and suddenly it had too many legs and..." He broke off, shuddering.

Hermione was obviously still trying not to laugh. Feeling they had better get off the subject, Harry said, "Remember all that water on the floor? Where did that come from? Some-one's mopped it up. "

"It was about here," said Ron, recovering himself to walk a few paces past Filch's chair and pointing.

"Level with this door." He reached for the brass doorknob but suddenly withdrew his hand as though he'd been burned.

"What's the matter?" said Harry.

"Can't go in there," said Ron gruffly. "That's a girls' toilet."

"Oh, Ron, there won't be anyone in there," said Hermione, standing up and coming over. "That's Moaning Myrtle's place. Come on, let's have a look."

And ignoring the large OUT of ORDER sign, she opened the door. It was the gloomiest, most depressing bathroom Harry had ever set foot in. Under a large, cracked, and spotted mirror were a row of chipped sinks. The floor was damp and reflected the dull light given off by the stubs of a few candles, burning low in their holders; the wooden doors to the stalls were flak-ing and scratched and one of them was dangling off its hinges.

Arthur's POV.

They had all arranged an emergency meeting and were now in the room of requirement.

"That's just bloody great." England sighed as he sat down.

"Know they will be very suspicious won't they?" France agreed.

"Hey England, that story about the chamber of secrets, what was the monster?" Canada piped up, finally being heard.

England looked to be in thought for a few moments, and then seemed a bit sheepish.

"It's been so long it's hard to remember… there was definitely more than one…" England said to himself, trying to remember.

"More than one what?" America asked interested.

"Did it have legs… no… did it fly? No…" England kept asking himself questions. "No, no, It had legs… it could fly… I think…"

"This isn't going to be like your 'Flying mint bunny' is it?" France said mockingly.

"FLYING MINT BUNNY IS REAL!" England shouted before going back on his train of thought.

America was snickering and whispering something to Canada.

"Ah! Blast it all! I just can't seem to put my finger on it!" England sighed.

France raised a suggestive eyebrow.

"GAH! BLOODY FROG! YOU KNOW WHAT I MEANT!"

That eyebrow rose a bit higher.

"I WAS TALKING ABOUT THE CHAMBER!"

A bit higher.

"WANKER! DO I HAVE TO SPELL IT OUT FOR YOU? I WAS TRYING TO REMEMBER WHAT MONSTER IS INSIDE OF THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS BUT I COULDN'T QUITE REMEMBER!"

"That's what I thought you said… What were you thinking about?"

"Bloody frog!"

And so it was a very unproductive meeting, they had however decided to keep up their secret.

And it wasn't untill after the meeting England noticed something quite important.

France still had his wand.

Short chapter I'm sorry but I have to study for final exams. This is just a quick update sorry for making you wait for the cliff-hanger to end. Also more questions for Hermione Ron and Harry to ask. More than one creature in the chamber of secrets? What are the creatures? Hahaha… I already know~! But that might be because I'm the one writing…hope you enjoy the story so far! AND WOW! Over 60 reviews! THANK YOU GUYS! Also whenever I'm stuck or have writers block I just read all the reviews thinking 'what would they like to see…'

So if there is anything you guys would like to see in the story, something to add for humor or anything, just make a suggestion and I'll try and fit it in~!

I have the rest of this story planned out and already thinking ideas for the third, so hope you like it~!

New chapters should be throughout next week because that's when exams are and I only go to school for an hour to write them.

SO SEE YA SOON~!


	14. Chapter fourteen: Economy

Le gasp! 90 reviews! (Just finished reading them all) Anyway I'm trying to update faster again and I'm not busy studying at the moment so here's a chapter!

Golden Trio POV

Ron was still in a very bad temper and kept blotting his Charms homework. When he reached absently for his wand to remove the smudges, it ignited the parchment. Fuming almost as much as his home-work, Ron slammed The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 shut. To Harry's surprise, Hermione followed suit.

"Who can it be, though?" she said in a quiet voice, as though continuing a conversation they had just been having. "Who'd want to frighten all the Squibs and Muggleborns out of Hogwarts?"

"Let's think," said Ron in mock puzzlement. "Who do we know who thinks Muggleborns are scum?" He looked at Hermione. Hermione looked back, unconvinced.

"If you're talking about Malfoy-"

"Of course I am!" said Ron. "You heard him-`You'll be next, Mudbloods!' come on, you've only got to look at his foul rat face to know it's him-"

"Malfoy, the Heir of Slytherin?" said Hermione skeptically.

"Look at his family," said Harry, closing his books, too. "The whole lot of them have been in Slytherin; he's always boasting about it. They could easily be Slytherin's descendants. His father's definitely evil enough."

"They could've had the key to the Chamber of Secrets for centuries!" said Ron. "Handing it down, father to son... "

"Well," said Hermione cautiously, "I suppose it's possible..."

"But how do we prove it?" said Harry darkly.

"There might be a way, " said Hermione slowly, dropping her voice still further with a quick glance across the room at Percy. "Of course, it would be difficult. And dangerous, very dangerous. We'd be breaking about fifty school rules, I expect-"

"If, in a month or so, you feel like explaining, you will let us know, won't you?" said Ron irritably.

"All right," said Hermione coldly. "What we'd need to do is to get inside the Slytherin common room and ask Malfoy a few questions without him realizing it's us."

"But that's impossible," Harry said as Ron laughed.

"No, it's not, " said Hermione. "All we'd need would be some Poly juice Potion. "

"What's that?" said Ron and Harry together.

"Snape mentioned it in class a few weeks ago-"

"D'you think we've got nothing better to do in Potions than listen to Snape?" muttered Ron. "It transforms you into somebody else. Think about it! We could change into three of the Slytherins. No one would know it was us. Malfoy would probably tell us anything. He's probably boasting about it in the Slytherin common room right now, if only we could hear him."

"This Poly juice stuff sounds a bit dodgy to me," said Ron, frowning. "What if we were stuck looking like three of the Slytherins forever?"

"It wears off after a while," said Hermione, waving her hand impatiently. "But getting hold of the recipe will be very difficult. Snape said it was in a book called Moste Potente Potions and it's bound to be in the Restricted Section of the library. "There was only one way to get out a book from the Restricted Section: You needed a signed note of permission from a teacher.

"Hard to see why we'd want the book, really," said Ron, "if we weren't going to try and make one of the potions."

"I think," said Hermione, "that if we made it sound as though we were just interested in the theory, we might stand a chance..."

"Oh, come on, no teacher's going to fall for that," said Ron. "They'd have to be really thick... "

"Why don't we ask Arthur? He's in Slytherin." Harry remembered and suggested.

Hermione looked as though she was thinking; "no."

"What? Why not, that's a good idea, he is our friend right?" Ron agreed, "Easier than getting that book."

"Well think about it! Why would Arthur be hiding something from us? When I asked him what L'Angleterre was he said he didn't know but just earlier today on the staircase he told us it was a nickname! A-" Hermione started as if she were on to something.

"He said it was to annoy him, so maybe there's an embarrassing reason or something." Ron interjected.

"But why didn't he just say it meant England?" Hermione asked.

"England?" Alfred asked popping out of the boys dormitory and coming down the staircase.

"Whacha all talkin' bout?" Alfred asked grabbing a seat next to them.

"Why does Arthur get annoyed at being called England?" Hermione asked staring intently at Alfred.

"Huh?" Alfred asked blinking at the unexpected question.

"I'm not sure myself actually, but Francis likes to give us all strange nicknames." Alfred said.

"What's yours?" Hermione asked.

"It's a secret~!" Alfred teased.

Hermione sighed. But then she had a sudden idea.

"What makes you so strong?"

"The economy~!" Alfred said in a teasing voice again.

"What?" The trio asked.

"Just messin' with yo dudes~!" Alfred said teasing again.

"Seriously Alfred what makes you s-?"

"GHOST!" Alfred yelped and dashed out the door as their ghost sir. Nicholas came in.

"That boy just won't get used to me, will he?" Nick sighed.

"Don't take it personally he does that to all the ghosts." Harry smiled slightly at the thought of his friend and the ghosts.

"Alfred sure has a strange sense of humor…" Ron said referring to the 'Economy'

Since the disastrous episode of the pixies, Professor Lockhart had not brought live creatures to class. Instead, he read passages from his books to them, and sometimes re-enacted some of the more dramatic bits. He usually picked Harry to help him with these reconstructions; so far, Harry had been forced to play a simple Transylvanian villager whom Lockhart had cured of a Babbling Curse, a yeti with a head cold, and a vampire who had been unable to eat anything except lettuce since Lockhart had dealt with him.

Harry was hauled to the front of the class during their very next Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, this time acting a werewolf If he hadn't had a very good reason for keeping Lockhart in a good mood, he would have refused to do it.

"Nice loud howl, Harry-exactly-and then, if you'll believe it, I pounced-like this-slammed him to the floor-thus with one hand, I managed to hold him down-with my other, I put my wand to his throat -I then screwed up my remaining strength and performed the immensely complex Homorphus Charm-he let out a piteous moan-go on, Harry-higher than that-good-the fur vanished—the fangs shrank-and he turned back into a man. Simple, yet effective-and another village will remember me forever as the hero-" Lockart began.

"I'm the Hero~!" A voice sang out from a sleeping student, causing a few others to laugh.

"-who delivered them from the monthly terror of werewolf attacks." Lockhart finished.

The bell rang and Lockhart got to his feet. "Homework-compose a poem about my defeat of the Wagga Wagga Werewolf! Signed copies of Magical Me to the author of the best one!"

The class began to leave. Harry returned to the back of the room, where Ron and Hermione were waiting. "Ready?" Harry muttered.

"Wait till everyone's gone, " said Hermione nervously.

Alfred was still sleeping.

"Hey Alfred! Bell rang!" Ron shouted over.

Alfred just kept sleeping.

"How are we supposed to get him to leave so we can ask Lockhart?" Ron asked in a whisper.

"Why don't we just let him help us?"

"He's best friends with Arthur, what if he tells him?" Hermione resounded.

"Hamburger~!" Alfred cheered and made his way to the great hall.

"That was convenient."

"All right ..." Hermione approached Lockhart's desk, a piece of paper clutched tightly in her hand, Harry and Ron right behind her.

"Er-Professor Lockhart?" Hermione stammered. "I wanted to—to get this book out of the library. Just for background reading." She held out the piece of paper, her hand shaking slightly.

"But the thing is, it's in the Restricted Section of the library, so I need a teacher to sign for it-I'm sure it would help me understand what you say in Gadding with Ghouls about slow-acting venoms..."

"Ah, Gadding with Ghouls!" said Lockhart, taking the note from Hermione and smiling widely at her. "Possibly my very favorite book. You enjoyed it?"

"Oh, yes," said Hermione eagerly. "So clever, the way you trapped that last one with the tea-strainer-"

"Well, I'm sure no one will mind me giving the best student of the year a little extra help," said Lock-hart warmly, and he pulled out an enormous peacock quill.

"Yes, nice, isn't it?" he said, misreading the revolted look on Ron's face. "I usually save it for book-signings."

He scrawled an enormous loopy signature on the note and handed it back to Hermione. "So, Harry," said Lockhart, while Hermione folded the note with fumbling fingers and slipped it into her bag.

"Tomorrow's the first Quidditch match of the season, I believe? Gryffindor against Slytherin, is it not? I hear you're a useful player. I was a Seeker, too. I was asked to try for the National Squad, but preferred to dedicate my life to the eradication of the Dark Forces. Still, if ever you feel the need for a little private training, don't hesitate to ask. Always happy to pass on my expertise to less able players... "

Harry made an indistinct noise in his throat and then hurried off after Ron and Hermione.

"I don't believe it," he said as the three of them examined the signature on the note. "He didn't even look at the book we wanted."

"That's because he's a brainless git," said Ron. "But who cares, we've got what we needed-"

"He is not a brainless git," said Hermione shrilly as they half ran toward the library. "Just because he said you were the best student of the year-"

They dropped their voices as they entered the muffled stillness of the library. Madam Pince, the librarian, was a thin, irritable woman who looked like an underfed vulture. "Moste Potente Potions?" she repeated suspiciously, trying to take the note from Hermione; but Hermione wouldn't let go.

"I was wondering if I could keep it," she said breathlessly.

"Oh, come on," said Ron, wrenching it from her grasp and thrusting it at Madam Pince. "We'll get you another autograph. Lockhart will sign anything if it stands still long enough."

Madam Pince held the note up to the light, as though determined to detect a forgery, but it passed the test. She stalked away between the lofty shelves and returned several minutes later carrying a large and moldy-looking book. Hermione put it carefully into her bag and they left, trying not to walk too quickly or look too guilty. Five minutes later, they were barricaded in Moaning Myrtle's out-of order bathroom once again.

Arthur's POV

Arthur was in the Slytherin common room wondering around, trying to remember what kind of monsters were in the chamber, it was a good thing Matthew had reminded him.

"Ah, bloody hell, how am I supposed to remember something that happened so long ago?" Arthur sighed.

Then a flying, mint colored bunny came over.

"Flying mint bunny! Did you come to try to cheer me up, huh? ...This is great! All my magical friends at the same time! But let's have no murders this go around, okay? I'm serious guys! Hey, no fair chewing on my sleeve, Uni! I'm too ticklish, so stop the snuggling! You're naughty, Captain Hook, Tinkerbell's not big enough. Take that big, goofy, kissy face back to your little leprechaun friends, since they're the only ones who care! Kidding! Seriously, you're all nutburgers! What am I to do with you?" Arthur laughed petting Uni and Flying mint bunny.

He was unaware of a platinum blonde haired boy, who wanted revenge watching with a smirk on his face.

(A/N I was going to end the chapter here, but I wanted to make it longer :D )

Harry's POV

He had never wanted to beat Slytherin so badly. After half an hour of lying there with his insides churning, he got up, dressed, and went down to breakfast early, where he found the rest of the Gryffindor team huddled at the long, empty table, all looking uptight and not speaking much. As eleven o'clock approached, the whole school started to make its way down to the Quidditch stadium. It was a muggy sort of day with a hint of thunder in the air. Ron and Hermione came hurrying over to wish Harry good luck as he entered the locker rooms. The team pulled on their scarlet Gryffindor robes, then sat down to listen to Wood's usual pre-match pep talk.

"Slytherin has better brooms than us," he began. "No point denying it. But we've got better people on our brooms. We've trained harder than they have, we've been flying in all weathers-"

("Too true," muttered George Weasley. "I haven't been properly dry since August")

"And we're going to make them rue the day they let that little bit of slime, Malfoy, buy his way onto their team."

Chest heaving with emotion, Wood turned to Harry. "It'll be down to you, Harry, to show them that a Seeker has to have something more than a rich father. Get to that Snitch before Malfoy or die trying, Harry, because we've got to win today, we've got to."

"So no pressure, Harry" said Fred, winking at him. As they walked out onto the pitch, a roar of noise greeted them; mainly cheers, because Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were anxious to see Slytherin beaten, but the Slytherins in the crowd made their boos and hisses heard, too, except Arthur who was by the Gryffindors cheering.

Madam Hooch, the Quidditch teacher, asked Flint and Wood to shake hands, which they did, giving each other threatening stares and gripping rather harder than was necessary.

"On my whistle," said Madam Hooch. "Three... Two... One... With a roar from the crowd to speed them upward, the fourteen players rose toward the leaden sky. Harry flew higher than any of them, squinting around for the Snitch.

"All right there, Scar head?" yelled Malfoy, shooting underneath him as though to show off the speed of his broom. Harry had no time to reply. At that very moment, a heavy black Bludger came pelting toward him; he avoided it so narrowly that he felt it ruffle his hair as it passed.

"Close one, Harry!" said George, streaking past him with his club in his hand, ready to knock the Bludger back toward a Slytherin. Harry saw George give the Bludger a powerful whack in the direction of Adrian Pucey, but the Bludger changed direction in midair and shot straight for Harry again. Harry dropped quickly to avoid it, and George managed to hit it hard toward Malfoy.

Once again, the Bludger swerved like a boomerang and shot at Harry's head. Harry put on a burst of speed and zoomed toward the other end of the pitch. He could hear the Bludger whistling along behind him. What was going on? Bludgers never concentrated on one player like this; it was their job to try and unseat as many people as possible... Fred Weasley was waiting for the Bludger at the other end. Harry ducked as Fred swung at the Bludger with all his might; the Bludger was knocked off course.

"Gotcha!" Fred yelled happily, but he was wrong; as though it was magnetically attracted to Harry, the Bludger pelted after him once more and Harry was forced to fly off at full speed. 63It had started to rain; Harry felt heavy drops fall onto his face, splattering onto his glasses.

He didn't have a clue what was going on in the rest of the game until he heard Lee Jordan, who was commentating, say, "Slytherin lead, sixty points to zero. 'The Slytherins' superior brooms were clearly doing their jobs, and meanwhile the mad Bludger was doing all it could to knock Harry out of the air.

Fred and George were now flying so close to him on either side that Harry could see nothing at all except their flailing arms and had no chance to look for the Snitch, let alone catch it.

"Someone's-tampered-with-this-Bludger-" Fred grunted, swinging his bat with all his might at it as it launched a new attack on Harry. "We need time out," said George, trying to signal to Wood and stop the Bludger breaking Harry's nose at the same time. Wood had obviously got the message. Madam Hooch's whistle rang out and Harry, Fred, and George dived for the ground, still trying to avoid the mad Bludger.

"What's going on?" said Wood as the Gryffindor team huddled together, while Slytherins in the crowd jeered.

"We're being flattened. Fred, George, where were you when that Bludger stopped Angelina scoring?"

"We were twenty feet above her, stopping the other Bludger from murdering Harry, Oliver," said George angrily. "Someone's fixed it-it won't leave Harry alone. It hasn't gone for anyone else all game. The Slytherins must have done something to it."

"But the Bludgers have been locked in Madam Hooch's office since our last practice, and there was nothing wrong with them then..." said Wood, anxiously. Madam Hooch was walking toward them. Over her shoulder, Harry could see the Slytherin team jeer-ing and pointing in his direction.

"Listen," said Harry as she came

nearer and nearer, "with you two flying around me all the time theonly way I'm going to catch the Snitch is if it flies up my sleeve. Go back to the rest of the team and letme deal with the rogue one. ""Don't be thick, " said Fred. "It'll take your head off. "Wood was looking from Harry to the Weasleys. "Oliver, this is insane, " said Alicia Spinner angrily. "You can't let Harry deal with that thing on his own. Let's ask for an inquiry... ""If we stop now, we'll have to forfeit the match!" said Harry.

"And we're not losing to Slytherin just because of a crazy Bludger! Come on, Oliver, tell them to leave me alone!"

"This is all your fault," George said angrily to Wood. "Get the Snitch or die trying, what a stupid thing to tell him!"

Madam Hooch had joined them. "Ready to resume play?" she asked Wood. Wood looked at the determined look on Harry's face.

"All right," he said. "Fred, George, you heard Harry -leave him alone and let him deal with the Bludger on his own." The rain was falling more heavily now. On Madam Hooch's whistle, Harry kicked hard into the air and heard the telltale whoosh of the Bludger behind him. Higher and higher Harry climbed; he looped and swooped, spiraled, zigzagged, and rolled.

Slightly dizzy, he nevertheless kept his eyes wide open, rain was speckling his glasses and ran up his nostrils as he hung upside down, avoiding another fierce dive from the Bludger. He could hear laughter from the crowd; he knew he must look very stupid, but the rogue Bludger was heavy and couldn't change direction as quickly as Harry could; he began a kind of roller-coaster ride around the edges of the stadium, squinting through the silver sheets of rain to the Gryffindor goal posts, where Adrian Pucey was trying to get past Wood... A whistling in Harry's ear told him the Bludger had just missed him again; he turned right over and sped in the opposite direction.

"Training for the ballet, Potter?" yelled Malfoy as Harry was forced to do a stupid kind of twirl in mid-air to dodge the Bludger, and he fled, the Bludger trailing a few feet behind him; and then, glaring back at Malfoy in hatred, he saw it-the Golden Snitch. It was hovering inches above Malfoy's left ear—and Malfoy, busy laughing at Harry, hadn't seen it. For an agonizing moment, Harry hung in midair, not daring to speed toward Malfoy in case he looked up and saw the Snitch. WHAM. He had stayed still a second too long.

The Bludger had hit him at last, smashed into his elbow, and Harry felt his arm break. Dimly, dazed by the searing pain in his arm, he slid sideways on his rain-drenched broom, one knee still crooked over it, his right arm dangling useless at his side-the Bludger came pelting back for a second attack, this time aiming at his face-Harry swerved out of the way, one idea firmly lodged in his numb brain: get to Malfoy. Through a haze of rain and pain he dived for the shimmering, sneering face below him and saw its eyes widen with fear: Malfoy thought Harry was attacking him.

"What the-" he gasped, careening out of Harry's way. Harry took his remaining hand off his broom and made a wild snatch; he felt his fingers close on the cold Snitch but was now only gripping the broom with his legs, and there was a yell from the crowd be-low as he headed straight for the ground, trying hard not to pass out. With a splattering thud he hit the mud and rolled off his broom. His arm was hanging at a very strange angle; riddled with pain, he heard, as though from a distance, a good deal of whistling and shouting. He focused on the Snitch clutched in his good hand.

"Aha," he said vaguely. "We've won." And he fainted. He came around, rain falling on his face, still lying on the field, with some people leaning over him. He saw a glitter of teeth, Forest Green eyes and Golden blonde hair with a cowlick.

"Oh, no, not you, " he moaned, referring to the one with glittering teeth.

"Doesn't know what he's saying," said Lockhart loudly to the anxious crowd of Gryffindors pressingaround them.

"Not to worry, Harry. I'm about to fix your arm. "

"No!" said Harry. "I'll keep it like this, thanks..." He tried to sit up, but the pain was terrible. He heard a familiar clicking noise nearby.

"I don't want a photo of this, Colin," he said loudly.

"Ah, Professor Lockhart, it would be best if we got Madam Pomfrey to fix his arm." Arthur said.

"Lie back, Harry," said Lockhart soothingly. "It's a simple charm I've used countless times-"

"Why can't I just go to the hospital wing?" said Harry through clenched teeth. "He should really, Professor," said a muddy Wood, who couldn't help grinning even though his Seeker was injured.

"Great capture, Harry, really spectacular, your best yet, I'd say-" Through the thicket of legs around him, Harry spotted Fred and George Weasley, wrestling the rogue Bludger into a box. It was still putting up a terrific fight.

"Stand back, " said Lockhart, who was rolling up his jade-green sleeves.

"No-don't-" said Harry weakly, but Lockhart was twirling his wand and a second later had directed it straight at Harry's arm.

"Professor, Just take him to the hospital wing!" Arthur and Alfred shouted.

A strange and unpleasant sensation started at Harry's shoulder and spread all the way down to his fingertips. It felt as though his arm was being deflated. He didn't dare look at what was happening. He had shut his eyes, his face turned away from his arm, but his worst fears were realized as the people above him gasped and Colin Creevey began clicking away madly.

His arm didn't hurt anymore-nor did it feel remotely like an arm.

"Ah, " said Lockhart. "Yes. Well, that can sometimes happen. But the point is, the bones are no longer broken. That's the thing to bear in mind. So, Harry, just toddle up to the hospital wing-ah, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, would you escort him?-and Madam Pomfrey will be able to-er-tidy you up a bit. "

"ARE YOU MAD! How was that supposed to help him! You probably made it worse!" Arthur shouted at the professor.

"It's just a side effect, just needs some… tidying up." Lockhart said quickly.

F.A.C.E. Group POV

"That bloody git hadn't a single clue what he was doing!" England complained once they got to the room of requirement that night.

"Dude he said in class he was a hero, he doesn't seem like a hero to me." America agreed.

"No. Remind me never to get injured around that man." France also agreed.

"Kumacherrio and I think we should start looking for clues about the monsters." Canada piped up quietly.

All three looked towards England.

"I was trying to remember and Flying mint bunny came." England said.

"'Flying mint Bunny' Is not real." France mocked.

"Flying mint bunny is real! Just because you can't see him doesn't mean he isn't real!" England shouted.

"Oui, it does!" France shouted back.

"HEY GUYS!" America shouted.

Both stopped bickering and faced America.

And then England twitched.

"England?" America and France asked at the same time.

"Just- that bad feeling again… I think there was another attack…" England sighed. "We need to find the chamber. Soon."

"Okay dudes I've got a battle plan!" America shouted.

"Canada and France start looking for entrances to the Chamber, then report to me. England remembers what monsters are there and goes in first."

"What will you do?" Everyone asked at once.

"I'll be the Hero~!" America said loudly.

England sighed.

"Im heading up to the hospital wing, see if Harry's alright and if there was another attack."

And with that England got up and made his way out.

"Is it just me… or was England taller than I am?" America wondered.

A few seconds of silence past.

"Oh no."

Arthur's POV.

"Madam Pomfrey May I speak with Harry?" Arthur asked.

Madam Pomfrey seemed to consider it but then replied; "The boy had to regrow thirty three bones. The Potion I gave him may make him sleepy, so only for a few minutes, no more."

When Arthur went over to Harry he looked barley awake.

"Did you see a house elf leave here?" He asked.

"Er… No." Arthur answered confused.

"Sorry about what happened because of Lockhart, that git had no idea what he was doing, not only did he pronounce the incantation wrong but the movement was completely off." Arthur continued.

Harry Yawned. "Sorry." Harry said a bit sheepishly for interrupting.

Arthur was about to say something when all of a sudden he was a bit taller.

"Oh bloody hell…" Arthur sighed, his voice a bit deeper.

"What?" Harry asked yawning again.

"Er nothing…" Arthur said quietly, now his full size and age again.

'don't look over, don't look over' Arthur kept saying in his head.

Harry looked over, and his eyes widened a bit.

"What happened?" Harry asked tiredly and worried.

"I don't know it is… your dream after all." Arthur said.

"You look like Arthur's dad." Harry mumbled laying back down, a bit convinced, most likely due to the potion.

Arthur shrugged. "Ah ha ha, well it is your dream, Cherrio, fell better!"

Arthur then quickly made out of his room and clung next to a wall.

'I left my book in the common room…' Arthur remembered. 'Bloody hell!'

Arthur snuck down to the basement with ease, and he heard footsteps walking by.

'Come on, you're the great kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, a top notch spy! I little kid can't stop you from sneaking into your own dorm!' England encouraged himself.

He cautiously looked around the corner.

It was a cat.

England sighed and slowly made his way to the secret entrance, he didn't like the normal way anyway, and the passwords were terrible.

He then tip toed up into his room, opened his lock and took out his book, he then made his way to the dungeons and snuck to a secret area, the password being Unset before so England was able to make his own password for it.

"Flying Mint Bunny." England whispered to the wall, which slowly opened, allowing England to walk inside to his previously drawn circle.

England then put the book on the book stand, which seemed almost like a music stand and opened it. Memorized the incantation and recited the spell while standing in the circle.

"Santo Rita Meeta Meta, Ringo Jonah Tito Marlin, Jack Latoya Janet Michael Dumbledora the Explorer…Santo Rita Meeta Meta, Ringo Jonah Tito Marlin, Jack Latoya Janet Michael Dumbledora the Explorer…Now! I command you! Shrink!"

And then there was a small England in the middle of the circle.

"Ah ha ha ha ha~!" England sang "Perfect, and just in time~!"

I think there was two people who wanted to see someone grow up in front of the trio and convince them it was a dream, so I hope you like the way I put it in : D and someone asked if Flying mint bunny was going to be in Now he is~ :D


	15. Chapter fifteen: Cat, Find, Fight, Snake

Next chapter~!

(Why do I keep forgetting this?)

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR HETALIA!

Okay now next chapter!

The now younger England made his way to bed, and put his book away, before falling asleep.

Elsewhere (Dumbledore's office)

"Professor Dumbledore!" Professor McGonagall called as she went up the spiraling staircase.

"Ah, Professor McGonagall, what are you doing up so late?" Dumbledore asked kindly.

"Arthur Kirkland, He just, just…" McGonagall was at a loss for words, which was rare. "He was older, and now he's younger, He's not a child!"

"I knew there was something strange about them, like I said before." Dumbledore started; "But also, before I said they are trustworthy."

"They?" McGonagall asked shocked.

Dumbledore nodded. "There is something about Mr. Kirkland, Mr. Bonnefoy, Mr. Williams and Mr. Jones all share. But what it is, I am not sure."

"All of them?" McGonagall asked in disbelief.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled; "When you are around them, don't they seem a bit, different. In a good way of course, They all seem to be so full of energy."

"But why are they here Headmaster?" McGonagall asked.

Dumbledore chuckled; "We may never know, But at least we know we have help."

McGonagall just sighed; "Never giving straight answers…"

Which made Dumbledore chuckle even more.

"So you say They are not children?" Dumbledore asked curiously.

McGonagall seemed surprised; "Yes, Mr. Kirkland was sneaking around in the dungeons, he took a book into a room, and came out as a child."

"That's very advanced magic." Dumbledore noted; "How did you see this?"

"I was patrolling the halls." McGonagall stated; "In my Animagus form."

Dumbledore nodded.

"But, are you positive we can trust them, and just allow them to stay in the school when there's a monster?" McGonagall asked.

Dumbledore nodded, and his blue eyes were twinkling; "They proved themselves worthy of trust last year after all didn't they?"

"But… why are they here?" McGonagall asked.

"I honestly have no idea, Lemon drop?" Dumbledore asked holding out a dish of candy.

"No thank you."

Harry's POV

Harry woke up on Sunday morning to find the dormitory blazing with winter sunlight and his arm re-boned but very stiff. . He rubbed his eyes, He sure had a strange dream last night, Arthur turning into Mr. Kirkland, What kind of dream is that? He sat up quickly and looked over at Colin's bed, but it had been blocked from view by the high curtains. Seeing that harry was awake, Madam Pomfrey came bustling over with a breakfast tray and then began bending and stretching his arm and fingers.

"All in order," she said as he clumsily fed himself porridge left-handed. "When you've finished eating, you may leave."

Harry dressed as quickly as he could and hurried off to Gryffindor Tower, desperate to tell Ron and Hermione about Colin and Dobby, putting his dream out of his head, but they weren't there. Harry left to look for them, wondering where they could have got to and feeling slightly hurt that they weren't interested in whether he had his bones back or not. As Harry passed the library, Percy Weasley strolled out of it, looking in far better spirits than last time they'd met.

"Oh, hello, Harry," he said. "Excellent flying yesterday, really excellent. Gryffindor has just taken the lead for the House Cup you earned fifty points!"

"You haven't seen Ron or Hermione, have you?" said Harry.

"No, I haven't," said Percy, his smile fading. "I hope Ron's not in another girls' toilet..."

Harry forced a laugh, watched Percy walk out of sight, and then headed straight for Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. He couldn't see why Ron and Hermione would be in there again, but after making sure that neither Filch nor any prefects were around, he opened the door and heard their voices coming from a locked stall.

"It's me," he said, closing the door behind him. There was a clunk, a splash, and a gasp from within the stall and he saw Hermione's eye peering through the keyhole.

"Harry!" she said. "You gave us such a fright-come in how's your arm?"

"Fine," said Harry, squeezing into the stall. An old cauldron was perched on the toilet, and a crackling from under the rim told Harry they had lit a fire beneath it. Conjuring up portable, waterproof fires wasa speciality of Hermione's.

"We'd' ve come to meet you, but we decided to get started on the Polyjuice Potion, " Ron explained as Harry, with difficulty, locked the stall again.

"We've decided this is the safest place to hide it. "Harry started to tell them about Colin, but Hermione interrupted.

"We already know-we heard Professor McGonagall telling Professor Flitwick this morning. That's why we decided we'd better get going-"

"The sooner we get a confession out of Malfoy, the better," snarled Ron.

"D'you know what I think? He was in such a foul temper after the Quidditch match, he took it out on Colin."

"There's something else," said Harry, watching Hermione tearing bundles of knotgrass and throwing them into the potion. "Dobby came to visit me in the middle of the night."

Ron and Hermione looked up, amazed. Harry told them everything Dobby had told him-or hadn't told him. Hermione and Ron listened with their mouths open.

"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened before?" Hermione said.

"This settles it," said Ron in a triumphant voice. "Lucius Malfoy must've opened the Chamber when he was at school here and now he's told dear old Draco how to do it. It's obvious. Wish Dobby told you what kind of monster's in there, though. I want to know how come nobody's noticed it sneaking around the school."

"Maybe it can make itself invisible," said Hermione, prodding leeches to the bottom of the cauldron. "Or maybe it can disguise itself-pretend to be a suit of armor or something-I've read about Chameleon Ghouls-"

"You read too much, Hermione," said Ron, pouring dead lacewings on top of the leeches. He crumpled up the empty lacewing bag and looked at Harry. "So Dobby stopped us from getting on the train and broke your arm." He shook his head. "You know what, Harry? If he doesn't stop trying to save your life he's going to kill you. "

The news that Colin Creevey had been attacked and was now lying as though dead in the hospital wing had spread through the entire school by Monday morning. The air was suddenly thick with rumor and suspicion. The first years were now moving around the castle in tight-knit groups, as though scared they would be attacked if they ventured forth alone.

Ginny Weasley, who sat next to Colin Creevey in Charms, was distraught, but Harry felt that Fred and George were going the wrong way about cheering her up. They were taking turns covering themselves with fur or boils and jumping out at her from behind statues. They only stopped when Percy, apoplectic with rage, told them he was going to write to Mrs. Weasley and tell her Ginny was having nightmares.

Meanwhile, hidden from the teachers, a roaring trade in talismans, amulets, and other protective de-vices was sweeping the school. Neville Longbottom bought a large, evil-smelling green onion, a pointed purple crystal, and a rotting newt tail before the other Gryffindor boys pointed out that he was in no danger; he was a pureblood, and therefore unlikely to be attacked.

"They went for Filch first," Neville said, his round face fearful. "And everyone knows I'm almost a Squib."

In the second week of December Professor McGonagall came around as usual, collecting names of those who would be staying at school for Christmas.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione signed her list; they had heard that Malfoy was staying, which struck them as very suspicious.

The holidays would be the perfect time to use the Polyjuice Potion and try to worm a confession out of him. Unfortunately, the potion was only half finished. They still needed the bicorn horn and the boomslang skin, and the only place they were going to get them was from Snape's private stores. Harry privately felt he'd rather face Slytherin's legendary monster than let Snape catch him robbing his office.

"What we need," said Hermione briskly as Thursday afternoon's double Potions lesson loomed nearer, "is a diversion. Then one of us can sneak into Snape's office and take what we need."

Harry and Ron looked at her nervously.

"I think I'd better do the actual stealing," Hermione continued in a matter-of-fact tone. "You two will be expelled if you get into any more trouble, and I've got a clean record. So all you need to do is cause enough mayhem to keep Snape busy for five minutes or so."

Harry smiled feebly. Deliberately causing mayhem in Snape's Potions class was about as safe as poking a sleeping dragon in the eye.

F.A.C.E. POV

The nations had decided it would be best if they stayed for Christmas this year, because of all the attacking, they also mad a plan to scavenge the castle for entrances to the chamber of secrets.

England was trying everything to remember what monsters were hiding in the chamber, but the other nations were doubtful because he decided it had legs, slithered, flew and could dig.

Canada's Job was to sneak around and explore for an entrance.

France's Job was to get the details from anyone.

England's job would be to go into the entrance first.

America's Job would be to be the hero.

America made this plan up, and they decided it wasn't too bad, considering it wasn't like the usual ones (Back me up, Back me up, Back me up, I'm the hero!)

England was also wondering if Harry believed that when he changed back it was just a dream.

Harry's POV

Potions lessons took place in one of the large dungeons. Thursday afternoon's lesson proceeded in the usual way. Twenty cauldrons. stood steaming between the wooden desks, on which stood brass scales and jars of ingredients. Snape prowled through the fumes, making waspish remarks about the Gryffindors' work while the Slytherins sniggered appreciatively.

Draco Malfoy, who was Snape's favorite student, kept flicking puffer-fish eyes at Ron and Harry, who knew that if they retaliated they would get detention faster than you could say "Unfair."

Harry's Swelling Solution was far too runny, but he had his mind on more important things. He was waiting for Hermione's signal, and he hardly listened as Snape paused to sneer at his watery potion. When Snape turned and walked off to bully Neville, Hermione caught Harry's eye and nodded.

Harry ducked swiftly down behind his cauldron, pulled one of Fred's Filibuster fireworks out of his pocket, and gave it a quick prod with his wand. The firework began to fizz and sputter. Knowing he had only seconds, Harry straightened up, took aim, and lobbed it into the air; it landed right on target in Goyle's cauldron.

Goyle's potion exploded, showering the whole class. People shrieked as splashes of the Swelling Solution hit them. Malfoy got a face full and his nose began to swell like a balloon; Goyle blundered around, his hands over his eyes, which had expanded to the size of a dinner plate-Snape was trying to restore calm and find out what had happened. Alfred Took and Empty cauldron and held it like an Umbrella, Trying to be the Hero and protect people from the showering.

Through the confusion, Harry saw Hermione slip quietly Into Snape's office.

"Silence! SILENCE!" Snape roared. "Anyone who has been splashed, come here for a Deflating Draft-when I find out who did this-"

Harry tried not to laugh as he watched Malfoy hurry forward, his head drooping with the weight of a nose like a small melon. As half the class lumbered up to Snape's desk, some weighted down with arms like clubs, others unable to talk through gigantic puffed-up lips, Harry saw Hermione slide back into the dungeon, the front of her robes bulging.

"Jones! Put down that cauldron!"

"Sure thing bro ha!" Alfred laughed putting down the cauldron.

When everyone had taken a swig of antidote and the various swellings had subsided, Snape swept over to Goyle's cauldron and scooped out the twisted black remains of the firework. There was a sudden hush.

"If I ever find out who threw this," Snape whispered, "I shall make sure that person is expelled."

Harry arranged his face into what he hoped was a puzzled expression. Snape was looking right at him, and the bell that rang ten minutes later could not have been more welcome.

"He knew it was me," Harry told Ron and Hermione as they hurried back to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

"I could tell." Hermione threw the new ingredients into the cauldron and began to stir feverishly.

"It'll be ready in two weeks," she said happily.

"Snape can't prove it was you," said Ron reassuringly to Harry. "What can he do?"

"Knowing Snape, something foul," said Harry as the potion frothed and bubbled.

A week later, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were walking across the entrance hall when they saw a small knot of people gathered around the notice board, reading a piece of parchment that had just been pinned up.

Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas beckoned them over, looking excited. "They're starting a Dueling Club!" said Seamus. "First meeting tonight! I wouldn't mind dueling lessons; they might come in handy one of these days..."

"What, you reckon Slytherin's monster can duel?" said Ron, but he, too, read the sign with interest.

"Could be useful," he said to Harry and Hermione as they went into dinner.

"Shall we go?"

Harry and Hermione were all for it, so at eight o'clock that evening they hurried back to the Great Hall. The long dining tables had vanished and a golden stage had appeared along one wall, lit by thousands of candles floating overhead. The ceiling was velvety black once more and most of the school seemed to be packed beneath it, all carrying their wands and looking excited. Alfred, Matthew, Arthur and Francis were all standing in front of the trio.

"I wonder who'll be teaching us?" said Hermione as they edged into the chattering crowd.

"Someone told me Flitwick was a dueling champion when he was young-maybe it'll be him."

"As long as it's not-" Harry began, but he ended on a groan: Gilderoy Lockhart was walking onto the stage, resplendent in robes of deep plum and accompanied by none other than Snape, wearing his usual black.

Lockhart waved an arm for silence and called; "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent! Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions-for full details, see my published works."

"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile. "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry-you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!"

"Wouldn't it be good if they finished each other off?" Ron muttered in Harry's ear. Snape's upper lip was curling. Harry wondered why Lockhart was still smiling; if Snape had been looking at him like that he'd have been running as fast as he could in the opposite direction.

Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed; at least, Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands, whereas Snape jerked his head irritably. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them.

"As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart told the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."

"I wouldn't bet on that," Harry murmured, watching Snape baring his teeth. "One-two-three-"

Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent; Snape Cried; "Expelliarmus!"

There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet: He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor.

Malfoy and some of the other Slytherins cheered. Hermione was dancing on tiptoes.

"Do you think he's all right?" she squealed through her fingers.

"Who cares?" said Harry and Ron together.

Lockhart was getting unsteadily to his feet. His hat had fallen off and his wavy hair was standing on end.

"Well, there you have it!" he said, tottering back onto the platform. "That was a Disarming Charm—as you see, I've lost my wand-ah, thank you, Miss Brown-yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy-however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see... "

Snape was looking murderous. Possibly Lockhart had noticed, because he said, "Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me"

They moved through the crowd, matching up partners. Lockhart teamed Neville with Justin Finch-Fletchley, Alfred and Matthew were teamed up, and Arthur and Francis (Which the golden trio were already worrying about) but Snape reached Harry and Ron first.

"Time to split up the dream team, I think, " he sneered. "Weasley, you can partner Finnigan. Potter-"

Harry moved automatically toward Hermione.

"I don't think so," said Snape, smiling coldly. "Mr. Malfoy, come over here. Let's see what you make of the famous Potter. And you, Miss Granger-you can partner Miss Bulstrode. "

Malfoy strutted over, smirking. Behind him walked a Slytherin girl who reminded Harry of a picture he'd seen in Holidays with Hags. She was large and square and her heavy jaw jutted aggressively. Hermione gave her a weak smile that she did not return.

"Face your partners!" called Lockhart, back on the platform. "And bow!" Harry and Malfoy barely inclined their heads, not taking their eyes off each other.

"Wands at the ready!" shouted Lockhart. "When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponents-only to disarm them-we don't want any accidents-one... Two... Three... "

POV SWITCH (These Pov's are happening at the same time)

Matthew V.S. Alfred.

Alfred waved his wand and casted; "Expelliarmus!" Excitedly. And a light shot out aiming for Matthew's wand.

Matthew waved his and whispered/casted; "Protego!" and a bright translucent blue shielded him.

"Hey dude!" Alfred laughed.

"Expelliarmus!" Matthew whispered.

"Protego!" Alfred laughed.

They repeated this for a while, practicing there spells.

POV SWITCH (These Pov's are happening at the same time)

Arthur was smirking, Francis was smirking.

And then Arthur stopped smirking, and Francis was smirking even more.

Francis took out two wands.

"Bloody GIT! THAT'S MY BLOODY WAND!" Arthur shouted.

"Come and get it~!" Francis taunted, using his own wand and shouting; "Silencio~!"

Arthur glared at Francis.

"You are so much cuter when you can't talk~!" Francis teased, and Arthur grabbed his star wand.

'Let's see if this works! The bloody frog deserves to be taught a lesson!' Arthur thought angrily, he would have shouted something but he was temporarily mute.

"Ohonon~!" Francis laughed.

'Expelliarmus!' Arthur concentrated on hitting his wand out of Francis' hand.

But nothing happened.

"Ohononon~! You will not ever get it back, if you can't even cast a simple spell~!" Francis taunted.

They however where interrupted by Harry and Malfoy's Duel.

POV Switch

"Rictusempra!" A jet of silver light hit Malfoy in the stomach and he doubled up, wheezing.

"I said disarm only!" Lockhart shouted in alarm over the heads of the battling crowd, as Malfoy sank to his knees; Harry had hit him with a Tickling Charm, and he could barely move for laughing.

Harry hung back, with a vague feeling it would be unsporting to bewitch Malfoy while he was on the floor, but this was a mistake; gasping for breath, Malfoy pointed his wand at Harry's knees, choked,

"Tarantallegra!"

And the next second Harry's legs began to jerk around out of his control in a kind of quickstep.

"Stop! Stop!" screamed Lockhart, but Snape took charge.

"Finite Incantatem!" he shouted; Harry's feet stopped dancing, Malfoy stopped laughing, and they were able to look up. A haze of greenish smoke was hovering over the scene.

Both Neville and Justin were lying on the floor, panting; Ron was holding up an ashen-faced Seamus, apologizing for whatever his broken wand had done; but Hermione and Millicent Bulstrode were still moving; Millicent had Hermione in a headlock and Hermione was whimpering in pain; both their wands lay forgotten on the floor. Alfred and Matthew were practicing blocking and attacking, and Francis and Arthur stopped fighting to see what was going on.

Harry leapt forward and pulled Millicent off Hermione. It was difficult: She was a lot bigger than he was.

"Dear, dear," said Lockhart, skittering through the crowd, looking at the aftermath of the duels. "Up you go, Macmillan... Careful there, Miss Fawcett... Pinch it hard, it'll stop bleeding in a second, Boot... "

"I think I'd better teach you how to block unfriendly spells," said Lockhart, standing flustered in the midst of the hall. He glanced at Snape, whose black eyes glinted, and looked quickly away. "Let's have a volunteer pair-Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you-"

"A bad idea, Professor Lockhart," said Snape, gliding over like a large and malevolent bat. "Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending what's left of Finch-Fletchley up to the hospital wing in a matchbox."

Neville's round, pink face went pinker.

"How about Malfoy and Potter?" said Snape with a twisted smile.

"Excellent idea!" said Lockhart, gesturing Harry and Malfoy into the middle of the hall as the crowd backed away to give them room.

"Now, Harry," said Lockhart. "When Draco points his wand at you, you do this." He raised his own wand, attempted a complicated sort of wiggling action, and dropped it. Snape smirked as Lockhart quickly picked it up, saying,

"Whoops -my wand is a little overexcited-" Snape moved closer to Malfoy, bent down, and whispered something in his ear. Malfoy smirked, too. Harry looked up nervously at Lockhart and said, "Professor, could you show me that blocking thing again?"

"Scared?" muttered Malfoy, so that Lockhart couldn't hear him.

"You wish," said Harry out of the corner of his mouth. Lockhart cuffed Harry merrily on the shoulder. "Just do what I did, Harry!"

"What, drop my wand?" But Lockhart wasn't listening.

"Three-two-one-go!" he shouted.

Malfoy raised his wand quickly and bellowed, "Serpensortia!" The end of his wand exploded. Harry watched, aghast, as a long black snake shot out of it, fell heavily onto the floor between them, and raised itself, ready to strike. There were screams as the crowd backed swiftly away, clearing the floor. Arthur seemed appalled by Malfoy and was trying to probably punch him out again, but Alfred was holding him back.

"Don't move, Potter," said Snape lazily, clearly enjoying the sight of Harry standing motionless, eye to eye with the angry snake. "I'll get rid of it... "

"Allow me!" shouted Lockhart. He brandished his wand at the snake and there was a loud bang; the snake, instead of vanishing, flew ten feet into the air and fell back to the floor with a loud smack. Enraged, hissing furiously, it slithered straight toward Justin Finch-Fletchley and raised itself again, fangs exposed, poised to strike. Alfred dropped Arthur (Who looked angrier) and shouted at Finch-Fletchley to back away slowly, or play dead.

Harry wasn't sure what made him do it. He wasn't even aware of deciding to do it. All he knew was that his legs were carrying him forward as though he was on casters and that he had shouted stupidly at the snake, "Leave him alone!" And miraculously-inexplicably-the snake slumped to the floor, docile as a thick, black garden hose, its eyes now on Harry.

Harry felt the fear drain out of him. He knew the snake wouldn't attack anyone now, though how he knew it, he couldn't have explained. He looked up at Justin, grinning, expecting to see Justin looking relieved, or puzzled, or even grateful-but certainly not angry and scared.

"What do you think you're playing at?" he shouted, and before Harry could say anything, Justin had turned and stormed out of the hall. Snape stepped forward, waved his wand, and the snake vanished in a small puff of black smoke. Snape, too, was looking at Harry in an unexpected way: It was a shrewd and calculating look, and Harry didn't like it. He was also dimly aware of an ominous muttering all around the walls.

Then he felt a tugging on the back of his robes.

"Come on," said Rods voice in his ear. "Move-come on-" Ron steered him out of the hall, Hermione hurrying alongside them. As they went through the doors, the people on either side drew away as though they were frightened of catching something. Harry didn't have a clue what was going on, and neither Ron nor Hermione explained anything until they had dragged him all the way up to the empty Gryffindor common room.

Then Ron pushed Harry into an armchair and said, "You're a Parselmouth. Why didn't you tell us?"

"I'm a what?" said Harry.

"A Parselmouth!" said Ron. "You can talk to snakes!"

"I know," said Harry. "I mean, that's only the second time I've ever done it. I accidentally set a boa constrictor on my cousin Dudley at the zoo once-long story-but it was telling me it had never seen Brazil and I sort of set it free without meaning to that was before I knew I was a wizard-"

"A boa constrictor told you it had never seen Brazil?" Ron repeated faintly.

"So?" said Harry. "I bet loads of people here can do it."

"Oh, no they can't," said Ron. "It's not a very common gift. Harry, this is bad. "

"What's bad?" said Harry, starting to feel quite angry. "What's wrong with everyone? Listen, if I hadn't told that snake not to attack Justin-"

"Oh, that's what you said to it?"

"What d'you mean? You were there-you heard me-"

"I heard you speaking Parseltongue," said Ron. "Snake language. You could have been saying any-thing-no wonder Justin panicked, you sounded like you were egging the snake on or something-it was creepy, you know-"

Harry gaped at him. "I spoke a different language? But-I didn't realize-how can I speak a language without knowing I can speak it?"

Ron shook his head. Both he and Hermione were looking as though someone had died. Harry couldn't see what was so terrible.

"D'you want to tell me what's wrong with stopping a massive snake biting off Justin's head?" he said. "What does it matter how I did it as long as Justin doesn't have to join the Headless Hunt?"

"It matters," said Hermione, speaking at last in a hushed voice, "because being able to talk to snakes was what Salazar Slytherin was famous for. That's why the symbol of Slytherin House is a serpent."

Harry's mouth fell open.

"Exactly," said Ron. "And now the whole school's going to think you're his great-great-great-great-grandson or something-"

"But I'm not," said Harry, with a panic he couldn't quite explain.

"You'll find that hard to prove, " said Hermione. "He lived about a thousand years ago; for all we know, you could be. "

End of Chapter~.


	16. Chapter sixteen:Midas Scratch

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR HETALIA

Told you I'd update faster~ : D (Or at least try to~)

F.A.C.E. POV

Once again they had decided to have a meeting.

America was eating Hamburgers. Canada was holding Kumacherrio. France was laughing (Ohononon~!)

And Arthur was glaring daggers at France.

The Silencing spell hadn't worn off yet.

"Okay, So since it's almost X-mas, We've got to be ready for anything!" America said.

"Oui. Agreed." France said.

"Ready for anything eh!" Canada also agreed.

England gave an annoyed nod.

"So, did you find anything out yet France?" Canada asked.

"Non. I've had no such luck." France sighed.

"England, dude, You remember anything? Besides the fact that it has legs, wings, slythers and can dig?" America asked loudly and France laughed.

England looked like he wanted to bang his head on the table.

"Dude? Cats got your tongue?" America asked tilting his head.

France laughed; "He cannot talk, he did not dodge, or protect himself from my charm~!"

"Wh-?"

"My magic charm, why do you always assume?" France said with fake innocence.

England looked at the table, really considering it.

"Dude, it's so much quieter." America laughed. "Anyway~, Canada, Any luck on a head start for finding an entrance?"

The Canadian shook his head.

"Well I guess that's all for this meeting!" America said happily.

The nations set off to their houses.

POV HARRY

Harry lay awake for hours that night. Through a gap in the curtains around his four-poster he watched snow starting to drift past the tower window and wondered... Could he be a descendant of Salazar Slithering? He didn't know anything about his father's family, after all.

The Dursleys had always forbidden questions about his wizarding relatives. Quietly, Harry tried to say something in Parseltongue. The words wouldn't come. It seemed he had to be face-to-face with a snake to do it.

"But I'm in Gryffindor," Harry thought. "The Sorting Hat wouldn't have put me in here if I had Slytherin blood... "

"Ah," said a nasty little voice in his brain, "but the Sorting Hat wanted to put you in Slytherin, don't you remember?" Harry turned over. He'd see Justin the next day in Herbology and he'd explain that he'd been calling the snake off, not egging it on, which (he thought angrily, pummeling his pillow) any fool should have realized. By next morning, however, the snow that had begun in the night had turned into a blizzard so thick that the last Herbology lesson of the term was canceled: Professor Sprout wanted to fit socks and scarves on the Mandrakes, a tricky operation she would entrust to no one else, now that it was so important for the Mandrakes to grow quickly and revive Mrs. Norris and Colin Creevey.

Harry fretted about this next to the fire in the Gryffindor common room, while Ron and Hermione used their time off to play a game of wizard chess.

"For heaven's sake, Harry," said Hermione, exasperated, as one of Ron's bishops wrestled her knight off his horse and dragged him off the board. "Go and find Justin if it's so important to you."

So Harry got up and left through the portrait hole, wondering where Justin might be. The castle was darker than it usually was in daytime because of the thick, swirling gray snow at every window. Shivering, Harry walked past classrooms where lessons were taking place, catching snatches of what was happening within.

Professor McGonagall was shouting at someone who, by the sound of it, had turned his friend into a badger. Resisting the urge to take a look, Harry walked on by, thinking that Justin might be using his free time to catch up on some work, and deciding to check the library first.

A group of the Hufflepuffs who should have been in Herbology were indeed sitting at the back of the library, but they didn't seem to be working. Between the long lines of high bookshelves, Harry could see that their heads were close together and they were having what looked like an absorbing conversation. He couldn't see whether Justin was among them. He was walking toward them when something of what they were saying met his ears, and he paused to listen, hidden in the Invisibility section.

"So anyway," a stout boy was saying, "I told Justin to hide up in our dormitory. I mean to say, if Potter's marked him down as his next victim, it's best if he keeps a low profile for a while. Of course, Justin's been waiting for something like this to happen ever since he let slip to Potter he was Muggle-born. Justin actually told him he'd been down for Eton. That's not the kind of thing you bandy about With Slytherin's heir on the loose, is it?"

"You definitely think it is Potter, then, Ernie?" said a girl with blonde pigtails anxiously.

"Hannah," said the stout boy solemnly, "he's a Parselmouth. Everyone knows that's the mark of a Dark wizard. Have you ever heard of a decent one who could talk to snakes? They called Slytherin himself Serpent-tongue."

There was some heavy murmuring at this, and Ernie went on, "Remember what was written on the wall? Enemies of the Heir, Beware. Potter had some sort of run-in with Filch. Next thing we know, Filch's cat's attacked. That first year, Creevey, was annoying Potter at the Quidditch match, taking pictures of him while he was lying in the mud. Next thing we know-Creevey's been attacked. "

"He always seems so nice, though," said Hannah uncertainly, "and, well, he's the one who made You-Know-Who disappear. He can't be all bad, can he?" Ernie lowered his voice mysteriously, the Hufflepuffs bent closer, and Harry edged nearer so that he could catch Ernie's words.

"No one knows how he survived that attack by You-Know-Who. I mean to say, he was only a baby when it happened. He should have been blasted into smithereens. Only a really powerful Dark wizard could have survived a curse like that." He dropped his voice until it was barely more than a whisper, and said, "That's probably why You Know-Who wanted to kill him in the first place. Didn't want another Dark Lord competing with him. I wonder what other powers Potter's been hiding?"

Harry couldn't take anymore. Clearing his throat loudly, he stepped out from behind the bookshelves. If he hadn't been feeling so angry, he would have found the sight that greeted him funny: Every one of the Hufflepuffs looked as though they had been Petrified by the sight of him, and the color was draining out of Ernie's face.

"Hello," said Harry. "I'm looking for Justin Finch-Fletchley."

The Hufflepuffs' worst fears had clearly been confirmed. They all looked fearfully at Ernie. "What do you want with him?" said Ernie in a quavering voice. "I wanted to tell him what really happened with that snake at the Dueling Club," said Harry.

Ernie bit his white lips and then, taking a deep breath, said, "We were all there. We saw what happened."

"Then you noticed that after I spoke to it, the snake backed off?" said Harry.

"All I saw," said Ernie stubbornly, though he was trembling as he spoke, "was you speaking Parseltongue and chasing the snake toward Justin."

"I didn't chase it at him!" Harry said, his voice shaking with anger. "It didn't even touch him!"

"It was a very near miss," said Ernie. "And in case you're getting ideas, " he added hastily, "I might tell you that you can trace my family back through nine generations of witches and warlocks and my blood's as pure as anyone's, so-"

"I don't care what sort of blood you've got!" said Harry fiercely. "Why would I want to attack Muggleborns?

"I've heard you hate those Muggles you live with," said Ernie swiftly.

"It's not possible to live with the Dursleys and not hate them," said Harry. "I'd like to see you try it."

He turned on his heel and stormed out of the library, earning himself a reproving glare from Madam Pince, who was polishing the gilded cover of a large spell book. Harry blundered up the corridor, barely noticing where he was going, he was in such a fury. The result was that he walked into something very large and solid, which knocked him backward onto the floor.

"Oh, hello, Hagrid, " Harry said, looking up. Hagrid's face was entirely hidden by a woolly, snow-covered balaclava, but it couldn't possibly be any-one else, as he filled most of the corridor in his moleskin overcoat. A dead rooster was hanging from one of his massive, gloved hands.

"All righ', Harry?" he said, pulling up the balaclava so he could speak. "Why aren't yeh in class?"

"Canceled," said Harry, getting up. "What're you doing in here?"

Hagrid held up the limp rooster. "Second one killed this term," he explained. "It's either foxes or a Blood-Suckin Bugbear, an' I need the Headmaster's permission ter put a charm around the hen coop."

"Eh! Arthur!" A small voice whisper/yelled through the hallway.

"Who's that?" Hagrid asked.

"Harry! Have you seen Arthur?" Matthew panted putting his hands on his knees

"No, Haven't sorry." Harry said.

Matthew looked around and dashed the other way.

"What's tha' boy of ter?" Hagrid asked, then He peered more closely at Harry from under his thick, snow-flecked eyebrows. "Yeh sure yeh're all righ'? Yeh look all hot an' bothered-"

"It's nothing," he said. "I'd better get going, Hagrid, it's Transfiguration next and I've got to pick up my books."

Matthew's POV

Matthew dashed through the halls and ran into the room of requirement.

"Did anyone find England yet?" Canada asked quietly after closing the door.

"Yea, He's right here." America laughed patting England's back.

"I can speak now!" England said annoyed.

"Alright! Secret Entrance found!" America announced.

"Where is it?" England asked, and for once everyone looked towards Canada.

"It's near the Gryffindor tower, there's a secret passage that leads downwards, and there's a -." Canada began.

"Lion!" England exclaimed jumping a foot in the air Triumphantly.

"Wh-?" America and France began.

"A lion! That's it!" England then began pacing back and forth.

"Care to explain Britain?" France asked.

"A lion that if it scratches anything it turns to gold, similar to the old legend that of King Midas, popularly remembered in Greek mythology for his ability to turn everything he touched into gold. This came to be called the Golden touch, or the Midas touch. The Lion, if it scratches someone, will turn to gold." England recited.

"Cool." America said.

"Not if it scratches you!" England said.

"Well, the monster is petrifying people, not turning them to gold." France pointed out and England sighed.

"Salazar Slytherin created the Chamber of secrets, Within the Chamber of secrets he hid a monster, What most people don't know is he hid more than one." England explained.

"And this is important because?"

"Salazar also hid three other monsters within the school, The Lion, isn't actually a lion. It is said to be Silver in color and not gold. It is said to be a transfiguration of some kind."

"Important?"

"Loyalty to Salazar Slytherin, it will also terrorize the school with the other monsters. So far only one is let out. Our job will be to find the monsters and defeat them, hopefully before anyone else gets petrified." England finished.

"LET'S GO!" America shouted.

"I'll lead the way, Eh?" Canada whispered.

They followed Canada towards the Gryffindor tower and opened a hatch, they crawled through the small opening.

"It's to crowded!"

"Cozy~!"

"HAHAHA OW!"

"Maple~…Leaf~."

They crawled out of the small opening and went toward a sealed door.

"A password?" France asked.

"OPEN SEASEME!" America shouted pointing at the door.

Which surprisingly opened.

"Ready?" England asked.

"Of course dude!"

"Don't let it scratch you."

They jumped down the small cliff and looked around.

It was almost like a jungle area, there was trees everywhere and thick bush.

"Were do you think the lion is?" Canada asked.

And two wide Silver eyes opened from in the dense bush.


	17. Update

Hello everyone

There won't be a new chapter today because I was studying for my exams; I will try to work on the next chapter right after my exam tomorrow.

Also! The silver Lion, which way would you guys like that battle to go?

More of a funny battle

Or

More of a serious battle?

I made a poll on my profile so you guys can vote

Expect lots of fast updates when summer vacation comes :D

My Goal is to finish this story, the third, and Try to start a fourth before it's time to go back to school~!

I would also like to thank you guys for reviewing, I appreciate it and I am glad you are enjoying the story!

:D


	18. Chapter eighteen: Poor Canada

Okay so you guys wanted a serious battle, so I hope you like it. (I'm not too good at writing battles in my opinion so I hope it turns out good.) one or two swears in this chapter just so you know.

Also I still don't write pairings or romance, so just making it clear; there is a lot of family stuff though.

The Lions eyes, wide and silver, appeared from the bush and it jumped out, scarring most of the nations.

"Look out!" England shouted as the Lion charged towards them.

"Stupefy!" America shouted waving the wand; it didn't seem to affect the lion very much.

The Lion then charged back into the dense bush.

"Is it just going to keep using surprise attacks?" England asked no one in particular.

"It seems so." France answered.

England then remembered something; "France? Mind handing me my wand?"

"Er… I would this time but, I left it in the common room." France said sheepishly.

Before England could say anything the Lion charged again, showing its sharp teeth, It made its way towards America; America dodged easily with a sidestep and the lion charged back into the bush.

"That thing is fast." America stated.

Canada held onto his bear as he cautiously looked around, searching for any movements in the bush.

"Umm… England…?" Canada asked.

"What is it Canada?" England asked searching the bush as well.

"Thiers movement over there," Canada began pointing west, "And there at the same time…" He finished as he pointed east.

"The Lion can't be that fast, it mu-." England started but was interrupted when a larger lion, this one with angry green eyes, landed smack dab in the middle of the opening, three other smaller Lion's, with wide silver eyes, made their way around the edges.

**America's POV**

"Crap." America said.

"Let's split up!" France suggested and all the Nations ran different ways, Canada went North, America went east, England went south and France went west.

The largest lion ran back into the bush, northeast, while the smaller ones ran South west and south east.

'Crap, I can see it.' America thought as he was thinking of a plan.

He didn't have too much time to think after the Lion charged right at him ready to strike, so America quickly ducked down, and as the Lion was just above him He straightened up, carefully placed one hand by the lion's neck, the other on the lion's stomach, and flipped it, almost all in one motion.

"HAHAHA! That'll teach you to mess with me, the Hero!" America laughed.

It wasn't until then America noticed the lion he took down was one of the smaller ones, and that it felt like something warm was breathing down his neck.

America quickly tucked and rolled into some more bush and continued running. He saw something flash in the corner of his eye, and he took aim with his wand, "STUP-"He began, but immediately stopped.

Canada was standing right next to him; there was blood on his right leg.

"You should be more careful." Canada whispered.

"Canada!" America shouted; "Did it bite you or-."

Canada smiled softly; "I'm fine, I don't think we should have split up, the four of us are stronger together."

America didn't take his eyes of Canada's bloody leg, And he quickly noticed as they ran, how much pain the northern country was really in.

"Canada How about I-." America began, But Canada shook his head.

"I'm a nation, I'll be fine."

**England's POV.**

'Splitting up was definitely NOT a good idea!' England thought as he was being chased by two of the smaller lions.

'I don't have my wand, or my book!' England thought as he ducked through a branch and jumped over a log. 'Who would have thought that a transfigured lion could have a litter!'

"Alright I can do this." England told himself and he ran faster, trying to find something useful to use.

One of the smaller Lions tried to pounce; But England grabbed a good sized stick and held it in front of himself so it was across his body, The Lion bite on to the stick and it snapped, easily.

'Their teeth are also vicious.' England noted, and paled as he stared at the stick that was now broken in two,

"L'Angleterre!" A familiar French voice called.

"France?" England called back, relieved to hear from someone, even if it was France.

The Lion then pounced again, and England dived into a bush.

"Ohonon~!" France laughed. The Bush England had dived into was the bush France was in, so he accidently landed on France.

"Shut it, git!" England whispered annoyed.

The Lions ran off in the Northern direction and England got out of the bush, along with France.

"Have you seen America or Canada?" England asked dusting himself off.

"No, we all ran separate ways." France said as they started walking.

"So all the Lions are where they are…" England thought, and began running north.

"That could be bad." France agreed and Ran North aswell.

**America and Canada's POV**

"A-a-America, w-what are w-we going to do?" Canada said, as he stood right next to America, surrounded by Lions.

"Don't worry C-Canada! I'll keep us safe!" America said keeping an eye on the Lions.

'Crap, this isn't good… If I go forward and attack Canada would be defenceless because of his leg… and magic doesn't work to well on the lions.' America thought, his eyes darting from each lion and to his fellow nation.

Canada held on tightly to Kumacherry, and took a deep breath. America turned his head to see what he was up to.

Canada let go of his breath and charged at one of the smaller lions, America was shocked, Canada pivoted around the lion, tripping it. (He used the Lions center of balance when it was off to help him throw it forward.)

"W-way to go Canada!" America said, as he too charged at one of the Lions.

The Lion Canada had tripped was getting up, and the Lion America had just thrown landed onto it, America tried to throw a punch had another Lion, but missed, and the Lion lifted its paw ready to scratch. America quickly back flipped.

Canada tried to kick at a lion but it was too weak to do much, The lion lifted its paw ready to strike and America heard a disturbing 'Snap.' And then a pained shout.

"CANADA!" America shouted.

"What's going on over there!" England's voice called, but America didn't answer, He watched in horror as the Lion drew blood.

America was outraged and charged full speed ahead at the lion; Canada was slowly turning a shiny gold. And America's eyes were slowly turning pink, and wet.

"Bastard!" America shouted as he used all his strength to send the Lion flying, He then turned to the one he was facing earlier and attacked it, Then another, And then he began to attack the largest one as a hand touched his shoulder, America was surprised and quickly turned around and was ready to strike, but he didn't see a lion, he saw a soft and sad smile on England's face.

"You don't have to fight alone."

France began attacking the big lion, with a spear he had made out of wood when they were running, (He made more than one because of how strong the lion's teeth were.)

"I-I-I C-Couldn't…" America began and wiped his face.

"France, you take care of that lion! We need to get Canada to the hospital wing!" England shouted.

"Oui! Take care of my petite Matthew!" France shouted, ducking to dodge the lion's strike.

America walked quickly over to his fellow nation, his brother. And carefully picked him up.

England quickly led the way, not saying a word, and they made their way to the hospital wing.

"Madam Pomfrey!" Arthur called, trying to sound calm.

"Oh, Good ,mor- What on heavens happened to him!" Madam Pomfrey almost shouted in shock looking at Matthew.

"There was a Lion that scratched him, but Alfred and Francis took care of it. It was a monster, like the ones petrifying the students." Arthur explained, telling the truth.

"Well, don't just stand there! Come in! Come in!" Madam Pomfrey said motioning to a bed; "I'll go see if we have an antidote handy, she then left the room.

America was still looking at his brother, Tears welling up in his eyes.

"Madam Pomfrey? Do you have that book on medical magic you said I could borrow?" Hermione asked as she came in the room, but as soon as she saw Arthur, Alfred and a golden Matthew, she decided to be quiet.

"Mattie… I'm so sorry… If I was just a little quicker I could have helped you… I'm sorry Brother…" Alfred said quietly.

Arthur looked sad as well, he just stayed there and didn't say anything.

"Oh Hermione, I'll get your book in just a minute." Madam Pomfrey said as she came out with a different book.

Hermione just nodded.

"Alright, I found the antidote, it's a rather simple spell, but it also requires a potion for recovery, we will have to brew the potion and then get professor Dumbledore to perform the spell, just to be safe." Madam Pomfrey explained.  
"B-but how long will that take?" America asked.

"Only a week or two, about a week to brew the potion and a week for recovery, He will be fine don't worry." Madam Pomfrey explained, you both should be off, I'll contact Professor Snape and get him to start the potion.

"Thank you." Arthur said and quietly left along with Alfred.

'Alfred and Matthew are brothers?' Hermione noted without noticing. 'And why is Matthew gold?'

"Alfred, are you going to be alright?" Arthur asked, his voice seemed steady.

"Ya… She said he'd be fine but… If only I was faster." Alfred cursed.

"It wasn't your fault." Arthur said clearly; "All of us decided to split up, when we should have stayed together."

Alfred only nodded as he went towards Gryffindor tower, where he waited silently.

Arthur walked all the way to his common room and his own room before he burst into tears.

Francis went to the hospital wing and silently stayed by Matthews's side.

Kumajiro was lying on Matthews shoulder, not saying a word.

(I feel bad for making that happen to Canada… But don't worry, he'll be back soon! And I hope I didn't try to make it to over dramatic but they all care about each other, so even if you know they will be fine you'd still be sad, and relieved right? I also feel bad for America and England and France and Kumajiro…)

Also please tell me if this chapter was any good, If it isn't I can try to re-write it… I'm just not sure.


	19. Chapter nineteen: Accused

I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR HETALIA

The time might be a bit off sorry.

Harry's POV

After Harry talked to Professor Dumbledore about the attack he headed to the common room, where Hermione and Ron where waiting for him.

"What happened?" Hermione asked walking quickly over.

"There was another attack, Nick and Justin." Harry told them.

"They didn't blame you did they?" Hermione asked worried.

"No, Dumbledore just wanted to talk to me." Harry explained.

The trio then took a seat in the corner.

"Harry…" Ron started, "I think something else is going on."

"What?" Harry asked surprised.

"Alfred is in the dorms and won't come out, he won't even talk." Ron told harry.

"And I saw them, Arthur, Francis, Alfred in the hospital wing…" Hermione began, "Matthew was turned into gold."

"What?" Harry asked shocked.

"We don't know much yet but I feel bad for Matthew." Hermione sighed. "But he will be alright in a few weeks, it's also the others I'm worried about, they all seemed quite close besides the fighting, and now they all seem so sad."

There was almost a stampede to book seats on the Hogwarts Express so that students could go home for Christmas.

"At this rate, we'll be the only ones left," Ron told Harry and Hermione. "Us, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. What a jolly holiday it's going to be."

Crabbe and Goyle, who always did whatever Malfoy did, had signed up to stay over the holidays, too. But Harry was glad that most people were leaving. He was tired of people skirting around him in the corridors, as though he was about to sprout fangs or spit poison; tired of all the muttering, pointing, and hissing as he passed.

Fred and George, however, found all this very funny. Hey went out of their way to march ahead of Harry down the corridors, shouting, "Make way for the Heir of Slytherin, seriously evil wizard coming through..."

Percy was deeply disapproving of this behavior. "It is not a laughing matter," he said coldly.

"Oh, get out of the way, Percy," said Fred. "Harry's in a hurry."

"Yeah, he's off to the Chamber of Secrets for a cup of tea with his fanged servant," said George, chortling. Ginny didn't find it amusing either.

"Oh, don't," she wailed every time Fred asked Harry loudly who he was planning to attack next, or when George pretended to ward Harry off with a large clove of garlic when they met. Harry didn't mind; it made him feel better that Fred and George, at least, thought the idea of his being Slytherin's heir was quite ludicrous. But their antics seemed to be aggravating Draco Malfoy, who looked increasingly sour each time he saw them at it.

"It's because he's bursting to say it's really him," said Ron knowingly. "You know how he hates anyone beating him at anything, and you're getting all the credit for his dirty work."

"Not for long," said Hermione in a satisfied tone. "The Polyjuice Potion's nearly ready."

"We'll be getting the truth out of him any day now."

At last the term ended, and a silence deep as the snow on the grounds descended on the castle. Harry found it peaceful, rather than gloomy, and enjoyed the fact that he, Hermione, and the Weasleys had the run of Gryffindor Tower, which meant they could play Exploding Snap loudly without bothering any-one, and practice dueling in private.

Fred, George, and Ginny had chosen to stay at school rather than visit Bill in Egypt with Mr. And Mrs. Weasley. Percy, who disapproved of what he termed their childish behavior, didn't spend much time in the Gryffindor common room.

He had already told them purposely that he was only staying over Christmas because it was his duty as a prefect to support the teachers during this troubled time. Alfred was staying because his brother needed him, as Alfred had put it; Francis and Arthur were also staying.

Christmas morning dawned, cold and white. Harry and Ron, the only ones left in their dormitory, were Woken very early by Hermione, who burst in, fully dressed and carrying presents for them both.

"Wake up," she said loudly, pulling back the curtains at the window. "Hermione-you're not supposed to be in here-" said Ron, shielding his eyes against the light.

"Merry Christmas to you, too," said Hermione, throwing him his present.

"I've been up for nearly an hour, adding more lacewings to the potion. It's ready."

Harry sat up, suddenly wide awake.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," said Hermione, shifting Scabbers the rat so that she could sit

down on the end of Ron's four-poster. "If we're going to do it, I say it should be tonight."

At that moment, Hedwig swooped into the room, carrying a very small package in her beak. "Hello, " said Harry happily as she landed on his bed.

"Are you speaking to me again?" She nibbled his ear in an affectionate sort of way, which was a far better present than the one that she had brought him, which turned out to be from the Dursleys. They had sent Harry a toothpick and a note telling him to find out whether he'd be able to stay at Hogwarts for the summer vacation, too.

The rest of Harry's Christmas presents were far more satisfactory. Hagrid had sent him a large tin of treacle fudge, which Harry decided to soften by the fire before eating; Ron had given him a book called Flying with the Cannons, a book of interesting facts about his favorite Quidditch team, and Hermione had bought him a luxury eagle-feather quill. Harry opened the last present to find a new, hand-knitted sweater from Mrs. Weasley and a large plum cake. He read her card with a fresh surge of guilt, thinking about Mr. Weasley's car (which hadn't been seen since its crash with the Whomping Willow), and the bout of rule-breaking he and Ron were planning next.

"Oh wait, There's some over here, Harry." Ron said, "and for Hermione and me too."

There was three presents wrapped in the England flag, three wrapped in the American flag, three wrapped in the Canadian flag, and three in the French flag.

Hermione smiled and laughed, "They do have a sense of humor," and then she tried to imitate Francis' voice; "L'Angleterre."

Harry opened the English flag present that was for him, It was some pictures… Of Lily and James Potter, and a note in neat handwriting on the bottom.

_**My dad found these; I think they belong to you.**_

_** -Arthur Kirkland.**_

Harry smiled at the pictures, and put them in the picture book Hagrid and gave him the year before. Wondering how they got the pictures, but he put that to the back of his head.

Harry then opened the French flag present, it was a book… And he quickly wrapped it back up.

_**Never know when you will need it Ohononon~!**_

_** -Francis Bonnefoy**_

He then opened the Canada flag present, and smiled; it was a toque and maple syrup.

_**Have a good Winter and a Merry Christmas!**_

_** -Matthew Williams**_

And the last one was the American flag present, A book on how to be a hero, and a Hamburger.

_**HAHAHA Have a good X-Mas See ya later Harry!**_

_** -Alfred F. Jones. HERO~!**_

**(A/N Those letters where all written before the incident)**

Hermione and Ron both got similar presents to Harry only they got some scones and cookies from Arthur, which Hermione took away from Ron warning him.

"When is Matthew being healed and… Un gold?" Ron asked a bit worried.

"Only a few more days, and then he has to heal, Alfred told me the other day." Hermione answered.

"Hopefully soon, Alfred has been scary quiet…"

No one, not even someone dreading taking Polyjuice Potion later, could fail to enjoy Christmas dinner at Hogwarts. The Great Hall looked magnificent. Not only were there a dozen frost-covered Christmas trees and thick streamers of holly and mistletoe crisscrossing the ceiling, but enchanted snow was falling, warm and dry, from the ceiling.

Dumbledore led them in a few of his favorite carols, Hagrid booming more and more loudly with every goblet of eggnog he consumed. Percy, who hadn't noticed that Fred had bewitched his prefect badge so that it now read "Pinhead," kept asking them all what they were sniggering at.

Harry didn't even care that Draco Malfoy was making loud, snide remarks about his new sweater from the Slytherin table. With a bit of luck, Malfoy would be getting his comeuppance in a few hours' time.

They did notice that Alfred, Arthur and Francis weren't at the feast.

Harry and Ron had barely finished their third helpings of Christmas pudding when Hermione ushered them out of the hall to finalize their plans for the evening.

"We still need a bit of the people you're changing into," said Hermione matter-of-factly, as though she were sending them to the supermarket for laundry detergent.

"And obviously, it'll be best if you can get something of Crabbe's and Goyle's; they're Malfoy's best friends, he'll tell them anything. And we also need to make sure the real Crabbe and Goyle can't burst in on us while we're interrogating him, I've got it all worked out," she went on smoothly, ignoring Harry's and Ron's stupefied faces. She held up two plump chocolate cakes.

"I've filled these with a simple Sleeping Draught. All you have to do is make sure Crabbe and Goyle find them. You know how greedy they are, they're bound To eat them. Once they're asleep, pull out a few of their hairs and hide them in a broom closet."

Harry and Ron looked incredulously at each other.

"Hermione, I don't think-"

"That could go seriously wrong-"But Hermione had a steely glint in her eye not unlike the one Professor McGonagall sometimes had. "The potion will be useless without Crabbe's and Goyle's hair," she said sternly. "You do want to investigate Malfoy, don't you?"

Alfred F. Jones POV

Alfred, Francis and Arthur made their way to the Hospital wing to wish Matthew a merry Christmas, the three nations were all worried and couldn't think of anything else, Alfred had also gotten a letter that his boss forwarded him from Matthews boss, Asking why the rivers were turning almost steel and the farmland turning a shiny metallic gold, preventing crops from growing.

The nations gathered around Matthew, all of them had sad looks on their faces; Matthew was still lying on the bed in the exact same position as before. Francis was petting Kumajiro (Who was not turned to gold) Alfred sat right next to Matthew's head and looked at him, waiting for him to get back up. Arthur was holding back tears.

"Good news!" Madam Pomfrey said as she came around the corner.

All the nations looked up.

"We will be able to perform the spell tomorrow, Professor Snape has completed the potion."

All the nations sighed in relief.

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey." Arthur said getting up and dusting imaginary specks of dust of himself, he then headed back to his common room, taking one last look at his former little brother for the night and already looking forward to tomorrow, to see that soft smile.

"Oui, Merci." Francis said also getting up and putting Kumajiro Next to the golden nation.

Alfred didn't move, He was still just waiting for his brother to wake up.

Madam Pomfrey wasn't able to get Alfred to leave so she made a bed next to Matthew for him to stay the night.

Arthur's POV

Arthur sighed as he took out his Book; it was his magic spell book and he began to read through it as he heard voices.

"Wait here," said Malfoy to Crabbe and Goyle- that wasn't Crabbe and Goyle; It definitely wasn't. Arthur examined the two impersonators from behind his book.

"I'll go and get it my father's just sent it to me-" Malfoy told the two fake Slytherins.

'They look very uncomfortable… Let's see who they are…' Arthur thought, turning a page.

Malfoy came back a minute later, holding what looked like a newspaper clipping. He thrust it under Goyle's nose. "That'll give you a laugh," he said. Goyle's eyes widen in shock. He read the clipping quickly, gave a very forced laugh, and handed it to Crabbe.

"Oi, Malfoy, what are you reading?" Arthur asked trying to be polite, only to be givin a glare, Arthur then went back to his book.

It had been clipped out of the Daily Prophet, and it said: _**INQUIRY AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, was today fined fifty Galleons for be-witching a Muggle car. Mr. Lucius Malfoy, a governor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where the enchanted car crashed earlier this year, called today for Mr. Weasley's resignation. **_

_**"Weasley has brought the Ministry into disrepute," Mr. Malfoy told our reporter. "He is clearly unfit to draw up our laws and his ridiculous Muggle Protection Act should be scrapped immediately."**_

_**Mr. Weasley was unavailable for comment, although his wife told reporters to clear off or she'd set the family ghoul on them. **_

"Well?" said Malfoy impatiently as Harry handed the clipping back to him. "Don't you think it's funny?"

"Ha, ha," said Crabbe bleakly. "Arthur Weasley loves Muggles so much he should snap his wand in half and go and join them," said Malfoy scornfully. "You'd never know the Weasleys were pure-bloods, the way they behave."

'It must be Ron and Harry, by the way there taking this…' Arthur thought, seeing the rage on Goyle's/Ron's face. 'I need to teach Malfoy a lesson about how to respect people.' Arthur then closed his book loudly.

Malfoy turned around and sneered, "Still don't like that word?"

Arthur glared at him.

"What? Are you a Mudblood as well?" Malfoy taunted.

Arthur growled at him, "Watch your mouth."

"You always have been strange." Malfoy continued to tease, Goyle and Crabbe (Harry and Ron Arthur had figured looked angry at Malfoy)

"Excuse me?" Arthur asked in such a fake polite voice it was scary.

"Gone deaf as well as mental have you?" Malfoy sneered, "Talking to yourself, ruining the Slytherin name-."

"The only one ruining the Slytherin name is you." Arthur shot back. "Slytherin isn't about being a biased Jackass, and thinking you're above all else."

Malfoy just glared and shot back; "Flying Mint bunny? What kind of name is that?"

"Flying Mint Bunny is perfectly fine thank you very muc-." Arthur began to defend his little bunny friend.

"I bet you anything it's just a cover-up. No way anyone in Slytherin could be a Mudblood." Malfoy began.

"What the bloody hell are y-?" Arthur began suspiciously.

"Getting all mad after hearing the word _Mudblood_." Malfoy said, emphasising Mudblood, and earning a death glare from Arthur.

"You probably don't care, You're probably hiding the fact that you hate them."

"Excuse me?" Arthur asked outraged, like hell he could hate any of his people because of blood.

"I bet you that you're the heir to Slytherin." Malfoy said with a sneer.

"You really think I woul-?" Arthur began even more outraged.

"Come on, Crabbe, Goyle, let's leave the heir alone." Malfoy snickered, Ron and Harry still seemed angry at Malfoy.

"What's up with you, Crabbe?" snapped Malfoy. "Stomach-ache," Ron grunted. "Well, go up to the hospital wing and give all those Mudbloods a kick from me," said Malfoy, snickering.

Arthur stood up and slammed his magic book to the ground, his fists tightly clenched.

'Crabbe' And 'Goyle' smartly backed up, and left. One with a lighting scar showing… they must have used the Polyjuice potion.

"One. More. Word. I. Dare. You." Arthur began

"What, will you sick a mons-." Malfoy began but stepped back as some other Slytherins tried to hold Arthur back.

'THAT BLOODY SODDING GIT OF A WANKER!' Arthur thought angrily, furiously trying to attack. 'WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON HIM!'

Malfoy finally gained some smarts and left the room, the Slytherins let go of Arthur and continued their usual business. (This has happened before… just not as bad…)

Arthur angrily stomped to his own dorm with his fellow first years; thank merlin he wasn't in second year with that git.

Now Harry and Arthur are suspected… Matthew will be healed soon… And Malfoy pissed off his own country… What will happen next?

Also sorry if the times are wrong, I had to make this chapter (The signup sheets for going home up in till Christmas in less than a week, So I had to change some things there.)


	20. Chapter twenty: Promise

First things first! I will answer some questions that you guys had…

Someone asked: Why was Malfoy talking about flying mint bunny?

Answer: He overheard England talking to Uni, captain hook, tinker bell, Uni and flying mint bunny in one of the chapters (*Goes to check which one exactly*) Chapter 14: Economy, pretty much in the middle of the chapter.

Someone asked: Arthur's star shaped wand: Somehow it seems absolutely useless but he should have fought with it in the past. Why can't he use it now like other people use their normal wands?

Answer: I've only seen Him holding it in his angle form, so yes he has to be like that to use it :) (In this fanfiction anyway)

Someone asked: Is there a possibility that Arthur once attended Hogwarts (some hundred or a thousand years before)?

Answer: Possibly ;) it's a big part of magic in England; ) Best wizarding school : )

Someone asked: Can Arthur perform wandless (bookless) magic?

Answer: Sort of, I'm thinking he can use wandless magic as long as he has his spell book. (the small one)

Someone asked: Will Arthur ever get his wand back before the story is finished?

Answer: If Francis hasn't lost it yet : )

**ON to the chapter~!**

F.A.C.E. POV

It was finally morning and the nations all quickly made their way up to the hospital wing, where America and Canada already were. Professor Dumbledore was also there.

"Did Matthew have any injury's before this happened?" Dumbledore asked kindly.

"Ya, His leg were bitten and I think he broke it when he tried to attack the lion…" Alfred said quietly.

"Once we use the spell we will have to give him the potion to help him heal his injuries, it will take about a week." Dumbledore explained.

Dumbledore then spoke the spell, it was ancient English and only Arthur understood it.

Matthew slowly began to regain color and Alfred hopped over to Matthews's bed staring at him.

As soon as Matthews upper body was completely normal Dumbledore spoke.

"Alright, take this now so you won't feel pain in your leg."

"Eh? What happened?" Matthew asked, but accepted the potion after seeing the worried looks on his fellow nations faces.

Pretty soon Matthew was completely normal, except for his broken leg, but thankfully he wasn't in any pain thanks to the potion that was now healing him.

Alfred still looked worried.

"Alfred? Are yo-." Matthew began to ask worried.

"Why did you do that?" Alfred almost shouted, a few tears in his eyes, Dumbledore left to give them some privacy, England and France both flinched by the intensity in America's voice.

"Bu-." Matthew tried to explain.

"You were Injured! Why didn't you let me help?" Alfred asked a few tears falling onto the floor.

"Bu-." Matthew tried again but was interrupted.

"You're leg was Bitten, if you let me help it wouldn't have bro-!" Alfred began.

"Alfred!" Matthew said loudly, startling all the other nations in the room, "It wasn't your fault! It was my idea! And I can fight to! I'm not useless!" A few tears from Matthew fell to the floor.

"It was all our faults… We should have gone more prepared. Next time we need to form a strategy without fail before we go charging in." Arthur spoke up.

"Oui, I… Agree. I also should have brought some weapons for us." France agreed.

There was a long silence.

"Just promise me… Not to do that again." Alfred asked Matthew.

"No, I need to help fight…" Matthew began.

"No. I mean scare me like that."

"I promise."

Harry's POV

Matthew, Alfred, Francis and Arthur seemed to be better now, it had been several weeks after the incident and Matthew was walking without trouble, however they still didn't get all their answers, but that could wait. They seemed to need some time to relax.

Hermione remained in the hospital wing for several weeks. There was a flurry of rumor about her disappearance when the rest of the school arrived back from their Christmas holidays; because of course everyone thought that she had been attacked.

So many students filed past the hospital wing trying to catch a glimpse of her that Madam Pomfrey took out her curtains again and placed them around Hermione's bed, to spare her the shame of being seen with a furry face.

Harry and Ron went to visit her every evening. When the new term started, they brought her each day's homework.

"If Id sprouted whiskers, I'd take a break from work," said Ron, tipping a stack of books onto Hermione's bedside table one evening.

"Don't be silly, Ron, I've got to keep up," said Hermione briskly. Her spirits were greatly improved by the fact that all the hair had gone from her face and her eyes were turning slowly back to brown.

"I don't suppose you've got any new leads?" she added in a whisper, so that Madam Pomfrey couldn't hear her.

"Nothing," said Harry gloomily.

"I was so sure it was Malfoy," said Ron, for about the hundredth time.

"What's that?" asked Harry, pointing to something gold sticking out from under Hermione's pillow.

"Just a get well card," said Hermione hastily, trying to poke it out of sight, but Ron was too quick for her. He pulled it out, flicked it open, and read aloud:

"To Miss Granger, wishing you a speedy recovery, from your concerned teacher, Professor Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming-Smile Award."

Ron looked up at Hermione, disgusted. "You sleep with this under your pillow?"

But Hermione was spared answering by Madam Pomfrey sweeping over with her evening dose of medicine. "Is Lockhart the smarmiest bloke you've ever met, or what?" Ron said to Harry as they left the infirmary and started up the stairs toward Gryffindor Tower.

Snape had given them so much homework, Harry thought he was likely to be in the sixth year before he finished it. Ron was just saying he wished he had asked Hermione how many rat tails you were supposed to add to a Hair-Raising Potion when an angry outburst from the floor above reached their ears.

"That's Filch," Harry muttered as they hurried up the stairs and paused, out of sight, listening hard.

"You don't think someone else's been attacked?" said Ron tensely. They stood still, their heads inclined toward Filch's voice, which sounded quite hysterical. `... Even more work for me! Mopping all night, like I haven't got enough to do! No, this is the final straw, I'm going to Dumbledore..."

His footsteps receded along the out-of-sight corridor and they heard a distant door slam. They poked their heads around the corner. Filch had clearly been manning his usual lookout post: They were once again on the spot where Mrs. Norris had been attacked. They saw at a glance what Filch had been shouting about. A great flood of water stretched over half the corridor, and it looked as though it was still seeping from under the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

Now that Filch had stopped shouting, they could hear Myrtle's wails echoing off the bathroom walls.

"Now what's up with her?" said Ron.

"Let's go and see," said Harry, and holding their robes over their ankles they stepped through the great wash of water to the door bearing it's OUT OF ORDER sign, ignored it as always, and entered.

Moaning Myrtle was crying, if possible, louder and harder than ever before. She seemed to be hiding down her usual toilet. It was dark in the bathroom because the candles had been extinguished in the great rush of water that had left both walls and floor soaking wet.

"What's up, Myrtle?" said Harry.

"Who's that?" glugged Myrtle miserably. "Come to throw something else at me?" Harry waded across to her stall and said, "Why would I throw something at you?"

"Don't ask me," Myrtle shouted, emerging with a wave of yet more water, which splashed onto the al-ready sopping floor. "Here I am, minding my own business, and someone thinks it's funny to throw a book at me..."

"But it can't hurt you if someone throws something at you," said Harry, reasonably. "I mean, it'd just go right through you, wouldn't it?"

He had said the wrong thing. Myrtle puffed herself up and shrieked, "Let's all throw books at Myrtle, because she can't feel it! Ten points if you can get it through her stomach! Fifty points if it goes through her head! Well, ha, ha, ha! What a lovely game, I don't think!"

"Who threw it at you, anyway?" asked Harry.

"I don't know... I was just sitting in the U-bend, thinking about death, and it fell right through the top of my head," said Myrtle, glaring at them.

"It's over there, it got washed out..." Harry and Ron looked under the sink where Myrtle was pointing. A small, thin book lay there. It had a shabby black cover and was as wet as everything else in the bathroom. Harry stepped forward to pick it up, but Ron suddenly flung out an arm to hold him back.

"What?" said Harry.

"Are you crazy?" said Ron.

"It could be dangerous."

"Dangerous?" said Harry, laughing. "Come off it, how could it be dangerous?"

"You'd be surprised," said Ron, who was looking apprehensively at the book. "Some of the books the Ministry's confiscated Dad's told me-there was one that burned your eyes out. And everyone who read Sonnets of a Sorcerer spoke in limericks for the rest of their lives. And some old witch in Bath had a book that you could never stop reading! You just had to wander around with your nose in it, trying to do everything one-handed. And-"

"All right, I've got the point, " said Harry. The little book lay on the floor, nondescript and soggy. "Well, we won't find out unless we look at it," he said, and he ducked around Ron and picked it up off the floor. Harry saw at once that it was a diary, and the faded year on the cover told him it was fifty years old. He opened it eagerly. On the first page he could just make out the name "T M. Riddle" in smudged ink.

"Hang on." said Ron, who had approached cautiously and was looking over Harry's shoulder. "I know that name... T. M. Riddle got an award for special services to the school fifty years ago."

"How on earth d'you know that?" said Harry in amazement. "Because Filch made me polish his shield about fifty times in detention," said Ron resentfully. "That was the one I burped slugs all over. If you'd wiped slime off a name for an hour, you'd remember it, too."

Harry peeled the wet pages apart. They were completely blank. There wasn't the faintest trace of writ-ing on any of them, not even Auntie Mabel's birthday, or dentist, half-past three.

"He never wrote in it," said Harry, disappointed.

"I wonder why someone wanted to flush it away?" said Ron curiously. Harry turned to the back cover of the book and saw the printed name of a variety store on Vauxhall Road, London.

"He must've been Muggle-born, " said Harry thoughtfully. "To have bought a diary from Vauxhall Road..."

"Well, it's not much use to you," said Ron. He dropped his voice. "Fifty points if you can get it through Myrtle's nose." Harry, however, pocketed it. Hermione left the hospital wing, de-whiskered, tail-less, and fur-free, at the beginning of February. On her first evening back in Gryffindor Tower, Harry showed her T. M. Riddle's diary and told her the story of how they had found it; Alfred had become more like his usual self and joined them.

"Oooh, it might have hidden powers," said Hermione enthusiastically, taking the diary and looking at it closely.

"It's giving a creepy feeling." Alfred stated glaring at the journal like it was some sort of devil.

"If it has, it's hiding them very well," said Ron. "Maybe it's shy. I don't know why you don't chuck it, Harry."

"I wish I knew why someone did try to chuck it," said Harry. "I wouldn't mind knowing how Riddle got an award for special services to Hogwarts either."

"Could've been anything," said Ron. "Maybe he got thirty O. W. L's or saved a teacher from the giant squid. Maybe he murdered Myrtle; that would've done everyone a favor... "

But Harry could tell from the arrested look on Hermione's face that she was thinking what he was thinking. Alfred was still glaring daggers at the journal.

"What?" said Ron, looking from one to the other.

"Well, the Chamber of Secrets was opened fifty years ago, wasn't it?" he said.

"That's what Malfoy said."

"Yeah..." said Ron slowly.

"And this diary is fifty years old," said Hermione, tapping it excitedly.

"So?"

"Oh, Ron, wake up," snapped Hermione. "We know the person who opened the Chamber last time was expelled fifty years ago. We know T. M. Riddle got an award for special services to the school fifty years ago. Well, what if Riddle got his special award for catching the Heir of Slytherin? His diary would probably tell us everything-where the Chamber is, and how to open it, and what sort of creature lives in it-the person who's behind the attacks this time wouldn't want that lying around, would they?"

"That's a brilliant theory, Hermione," said Ron, "with just one tiny little flaw. There's nothing written In his diary."

"Diary or Journal that thing is creepy." Alfred said once again; Still glaring at it.

But Hermione was pulling her wand out of her bag. "It might be invisible ink!" she whispered. She tapped the diary three times and said, "Aparecium!"

Nothing happened.

Undaunted, Hermione shoved her hand back into her bag and pulled out what appeared to be a bright red eraser.

"It's a Revealer, I got it in Diagon Alley," she said. She rubbed hard on January first. Nothing happened.

"I'm telling you, there's nothing to find in there," said Ron. "Riddle just got a diary for Christmas and couldn't be bothered filling it in."

"I don't like it." Alfred said with a yawn; "I'm headin' to bed."

"Night." The trio all answered and then went back to the mystery.

"What else did you all find out when you questioned Malfoy?" Hermione asked.

"Malfoy thinks it's either Harry or Arthur." Ron answered.

"Why does he think its Arthur?" Hermione asked,

"Well he called him mental, saying he saw some flying mint bunny, and then he said that the hate for blood terms was only a cover." Ron explained.

"Flying mint bunny?" Hermione asked.

"Ye-." Harry began.

"Flying mint bunny?" Hermione said in disbelief. "There has only been one other wizard who has ever seen one! It is said only the most powerful wizards can see them!" Hermione answered in one breath.

"Who was the other wizard?" Harry asked.

"…I don't quite remember." Hermione admitted a bit sheepishly; "But I'll see if I can find the name again."

Dumbledore's POV

"Headmaster?" Professor McGonagall called.

"Yes Minerva?" Dumbledore answered as McGonagall came in.

"You said you know why those… Adults pretending to be kids are here." McGonagall said.

"Only a theory. But I believe they are here to protect. The school and Harry." Dumbledore answered.

"But why?" McGonagall asked.

"Only time will tell." Dumbledore answered

"Of course."

"And Minerva?" Dumbledore called as soon as McGonagall turned around.

"Yes?"

"There's been strange weather in Canada lately, hasn't there?" Dumbledore said, "Lemon drop?"

"…No thank you."

Ahahaha! Is Dumbledore suspicious? Or just stating the facts? Who knows? Hahaha.


	21. Chapter 21 Plan: Ready, Set? Fail

I'm sorry for the long wait!

After hearing about Flying Mint Bunny Hermione made her way to library and searched through many books, but so far had no luck.

The sun had now begun to shine weakly on Hogwarts again. Inside the castle, the mood had grown more hopeful. There had been no more attacks since those on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick, and Madam Pomfrey was pleased to report that the Mandrakes were becoming moody and secretive, meaning that they were fast leaving childhood.

"The moment their acne clears up, they'll be ready for repotting again," Harry heard her telling Filch kindly one afternoon.

"And after that, it won't be long until we're cutting them up and stewing them. You'll have Mrs. Norris back in no time."

Perhaps the Heir of Slytherin had lost his or her nerve, thought Harry. It must be getting riskier and riskier to open the Chamber of Secrets, with the school so alert and suspicious. Perhaps the monster, whatever it was, was even now settling itself down to hibernate for another fifty years... Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff didn't take this cheerful view. He was still convinced that Harry was the guilty one, that he had "given himself away" at the Dueling Club.

Peeves wasn't helping matters; he kept popping up in the crowded corridors singing "Oh, Potter, you rotter... " now with a dance routine to match. Gilderoy Lockhart seemed to think he himself had made the attacks stop. Harry overheard him telling Professor McGonagall so while the Gryffindors were lining up for Transfiguration.

"I don't think there'll be any more trouble, Minerva," he said, tapping his nose knowingly and winking. "I think the Chamber has been locked for good this time. The culprit must have known it was only a matter of time before I caught him. Rather sensible to stop now, before I came down hard on him. You know, what the school needs now is a morale booster. Wash away the memories of last term! I won't say any more just now, but I think I know just the thing... " He tapped his nose again and strode off.

Lockhart's idea of a morale-booster became clear at breakfast time on February fourteenth. Harry hadn't had much sleep because of a late running Quidditch practice the night before, and he hurried down to the Great Hall, slightly late. He thought, for a moment, that he'd walked through the wrong doors. The walls were all covered with large, lurid pink flowers. Worse still, heart-shaped confetti was falling from the pale blue ceiling. Harry went over to the Gryffindor table, where Ron was sitting looking sickened, and Hermione seemed to have been overcome with giggles.

"What's going on?" Harry asked them, sitting down and wiping confetti off his bacon. Ron pointed to the teachers' table, apparently too disgusted to speak. Lockhart, wearing lurid pink robes to match the decorations, was waving for silence. The teachers on either side of him were looking stony-faced. From where he sat, Harry could see a muscle going in Professor McGonagall's cheek. Snape looked as though someone had just fed him a large beaker of Skele-Gro.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Lockhart shouted. "And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all-and it doesn't end here!" Lockhart clapped his hands and through the doors to the entrance hall marched a dozen surly-looking dwarfs. Not just any dwarfs, however. Lockhart had them all wearing golden wings and carrying harps.

"My friendly, card-carrying cupids!" beamed Lockhart. "They will be roving around the school today delivering your valentines! And the fun doesn't stop here! I'm sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you're at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I've ever met, the sly old dog!" Professor Flitwick buried his face in his hands. Snape was looking as though the first person to ask him for a Love Potion would be force-fed poison.

"Please, Hermione, tell me you weren't one of the forty-six," said Ron as they left the Great Hall for their first lesson. Hermione suddenly became very interested in searching her bag for her schedule and didn't answer.

"Hey dudes!" Alfred shouted charging towards them.

The golden trio turned to face an excided looking American.

"What? Excited for valentine's day?" Ron asked, and Alfred seemed confused.

"Wh- No dude, I HAVE to go meet up with Francis, Arthur, and… my brother! I need you guys to cover for me, say I'm sick or something!" Alfred then retreated up a staircase.

"He's skipping class?" Hermione asked aloud.

F.A.C.E. POV

The room of requirement.

"Hey dudes, the hero is here let's do this!" America shouted as he closed the door.

"Alfred, can't you be quieter…?" England asked sighing. "Anyway we need to make our plan flawless."

"Let's get this meeting started!" America shouted; "Okay! Canadia! Location!"

"Near the Ravenclaw tower, at the bottom, there's a painting you can move to reveal a corridor." Canada answered quickly.

"Okay! Monster? England!" America shouted again.

"The monster is capable of forming illusions, most likely we will have to figure out what is real and what is not, the monster can re-create memories, so we need to have sharp eyes, the monster will be our main goal, we need to destroy it." England began.

"Anything else?" America asked.

"Yes actually, the monster itself can shape shift, and replicate a person's personality perfectly; seeming like the real thing. It will strike to kill." England finished.

"Alright, not creepy at all, Weapons! France!" America shouted pointing at the French man.

"I managed to bring some swords… and we have our wands." France said.

"Before we go any further… My wand. Give. Now." England said glaring daggers at France, who laughed and tossed him his wand.

"Finally!" England sighed, after half a year he had his wand. He had been carrying his small spell book. (A/N Like in Hetaoni, the spell book he carries/uses.)

"Wait… where did you get the swords?" England asked as he held one up, it looked like his old pirate sword.

"I summoned them~." France laughed.

"…"

"Eh? what's the plan?" Canada asked.

"Alright! I'm the hero, your all backup!" America laughed but then got serious; "Okay, England knows the most about the monster so strategically, he should go in first, especially now that he has his wand. I will go in next, cause I'm the hero, Canada will go in right after me, and France will be at the back. Since this monster can copy us we need a secret code to keep us from attacking each other, thinking it's the monster. So what's the word?"

There was shocked silence.

"What?" America asked.

"You actually made sense…"

"It's the sign of the apocalypse!"

"Way to go Alfred…"

"HAHAHA! Of course it made sense, so what's the word?"

"You pick." England shrugged, still shocked at America's plan that did not end in I'm the hero and Back me up.

"Bird is the word!"

"…"

"Let's go! Everyone equip!" America shouted.

America had a dagger around his belt, he also had his wand in his pocket.

England had his old pirate sword through a belt, wand in his pocket, spell book in hand. (he really didn't want to use his pirate sword.)

France had his own pirate sword also in a belt, his wand in hand.

Canada held tightly to Kumalero, he had his wand. (Canada had been practicing some healing spells) he also had a small dagger, but he didn't want to use it.

"Let's go!"

The face group headed toward the tower, making sure not to bump into teachers, Canada went in front to check, because of his awesome invisibility ninja skills. They made it to the corridor and the portrait Canada had told them about had a picture of a raven on it.

"Am-Alfred, help me move this eh?" Canada asked, and the North American brothers moved the portrait completely off the hole.

"I'll go first now." England said as he crawled through into the secret hallway. It seemed normal enough but they all had their wands ready, it was pretty dark.

The farther they walked the weirder they felt.

"I have a bad feeling about this…" Canada whispered.

And if on cue four holes were created in the ground.

"CANADA!"

"AMERICA!"

"FRANCE!"

"ENGLAND!"

They all shouted as they fell down different chutes.

France POV

France fell with a loud thump, the room was warm, it looked like a huge mansion bedroom or living room… or both. There was a white rose in a bottle, with red stains. Red stains on the couch, floor and bed. France shivered.

"L'Angleterre? Canada? Amerique?" France called out.

America POV

The room was cold, it almost looked like a bar of some sort, the thing that bothered America was that there were specks of blood on the floor; America could feel a chill run up his spine. The room smelt like beer, and there were a few hamburger wrappers on the floor.

"C-Canada? England? France?" The hero called out.

It looked like a scene from a horror movie.

Canada's POV.

It was cold and foggy where he landed, and slippery, it looked like a hockey rink.

"France? America? England?" Canada asked worriedly.

Canada slowly shifted his feet forward, he was on ice, very slippery ice, and he found a hockey stick… Canada went to pick it up, but fell as he forced himself backwards. The hockey stick was covered in blood.

England's POV.

England fell with a loud thud; it was very warm, and very bright. It was a nice looking kitchen… almost too nice. There was a batch of steaming warm cupcakes on the pink table, but on the blue counter England could see poison…

"Would you like a cupcake, Love?" A sickening sweet voice asked.

Short chapter I'm sorry! Next chapter, multiple fights, I'll try to add lots of detail, For each fight and the final fight! And then there's still the Hufflepuff monster…


	22. Chapter 22 Cupcakes and Vodka Don't mix

I need to catch up on my updates, especially since I'm camping soon.

THIS CHAPTER WILL HAVE VIOLENCE!

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR HETALIA!  
^^^I keep forgetting that thing…

England's POV

England spun around only to see… Himself?

England stared at himself; he was wearing a pink sweater vest and a blue bowtie.

"What the bloody hell?" England asked stepping back towards the counter, this didn't make sense, this had to be the monsters' doing. It was just an illusion. It couldn't hurt him.

The 'illusion' stepped forward; it was holding a cooking knife.

"Would you like to stay for some cupcakes?" It asked, pointing at the cupcakes with its knife.

"What are you?" England asked glaring, backing up.

"Me? I guess you could say I'm you~! My name is Arthur~!" 'Arthur' sang.

"You can't be me." England said his hand in his pocket, tightly around his wand.

Arthur put on a fake, innocent, thinking face; "I guess you're right, there can only be one of us, can't there?" and without warning Arthur charged England with a knife. England quickly sidestepped around the counter, this… thing was creepy.

"Where you going? I'm only trying to make things right~!" Arthur sang sweetly.

"Tha-ats no way to go about it!" England shouted ducking and brandishing his own wand.

"No cheating~!" Arthur sang and sliced the wand in one movement.

"h-how?" England asked to no one in particular as he stared at his wand… half a wand. It was in illusion! How could it!

"Best knife in cooking nowadays~! Cuts through anything~!" Arthur laughed and lunged forward again, striking England's side.

England made a small noise of pain, and dodged the knife, dashing the other way, his hand tightly around his side that was now burning in pain. Was he fighting? The actual monster? He ran around the corner, this room was a house, was that an illusion? England quickly looked behind him to check for his other self, which was a big mistake, seeing that he now felt pain around his middle. He looked in front of him and that creepy version of himself was grinning ear to ear, its blue eyes circled.

"Got you~!" Arthur sang happily, as he pulled back the knife and England fell to the floor, clutching his stomach.

'What the hell? What's with that knife! It shouldn't be able to hurt me like this! I'm a nation!'

England looked up, and paled. His other self, Arthur, was licking the bloody knife, with a creepy grin on his face.

It then turned to fake sympathy, "Aww… You don't look so good. Sure you wouldn't like even one cupcake?"

England glared, and sat up, he ran out of the room, not daring to look back.

"Aww, your no fun~! I'll just have to go play with someone else, maybe they'll appreciate my cupcakes~!" Arthur sang, and England brandished his old pirate sword.

"You don't lay a finger on my family." England growled and began to attack, one hand trying to stop his stomach from bleeding, the other currently lunging.

"Ahahaha~!" His mirror image laughed, as he was struck by England's sword in the shoulder, England was starting to get very creeped out.

Arthur shot his leg up, straight up, it was inhuman, he then swung it straight for England's head and at the same time went forward with the knife, England not thinking the kick would damage him as much as the knife went to block the knife.

Arthur had a look of pure, scary glee.

And that was the last thing England saw before he saw pitch black.

A few minutes later…

England slowly lifted his eyes and looked around… he immediately regretted doing so.

The room he was in smelt like rotting of all kinds, it was stained with blood, but the walls, behind the blood were blue, the floor, under the blood pink. England struggled to move, he was tied up in a chair.

'Bloody hell this isn't good.'

"Aww… good. Your awake, it would be rude of me to have so much fun without you~!" The sickening sweet voice of his double sang.

It came into view, it was still wearing the pink sweater vest and blue tie, but it was stained in a bit of his blood and mostly England's.

England was honestly creeped out.

Arthur came closer and put the knife against England's cheek, and slowly pushed it down as he asked, "Should we do this the easy way, or the fun way~?"

England struggled against the binds, which he now realized was cooking cloths.

"The fun way, is it? Arthur asked in glee.

England looked around the room for something, anything to help him, but he regretted it every time he changed the direction he was looking.

The room was literately a bloody nightmare.

There was a 'Ding' and Arthurs face lit up with joy.

"Cupcakes are done~!" And he skipped out of the room.

England wasn't sure to be thankful, or more concerned, but the pain in his stomach told him to just go with it. He still had his book with him, and he knows one spell like the back of his hand.

"Santo Rita Meeta Meta, Ringo Jonah Tito Marlin, Jack Latoya Janet Michael Dumbledora the Explorer. Santo Rita Meeta Meta, Ringo Jonah Tito Marlin, Jack Latoya Janet Michael Dumbledora the Explorer, now I summon you from the depths of hell, show yourself!" England chanted, hoping for once that it was a certain-

"You called d-?"

"YES!" England almost shouted.

"England, you shouldn't be playing with the magic, it is very annoying." Russia said with a smile.

"Where are you right now?"

"I am at your magic school da?"

"What?"

"You summoned me a few months ago, I wanted to look around."

There was laughter coming from the kitchen.

"Why are you all tightly bound?" Russia asked.

"look, Russia, I need some help."

"hm... what be in it for me?"

"I'll give you some vodka!"

Russia's head disappeared from the floor.

'Was that a yes or a no?' England thought but was interrupted.

"My cupcakes need to cool down, I might as well make things right now~!" Arthur laughed coming in the room with the knife.

England tried to get out of the binds, if Russia didn't come, England was going to be in trouble.

"Now what first?" Arthur asked curiously putting the knife to his own face in a thoughtful pose, "I can't decide, I'll just go at random."

And with that a series of slashes started.

A knocked out Brit now lay motionless in a chair, tightly bound.

And just as Arthur was going to make a final strike a series of Kolkolkol could be heard.

"If you do that I won't get my Vodka." Said a Russian taking out his bloodied pipe.

Arthur brandished his knife towards Russia. "Would you like a cupcake?"

"No. I just want my vodka, da?"

Russia then swiped at Arthur with his brandished pipe, successfully knocking him on the head numerous times, and in the sides. Arthur only managed to cut Russia's cheek, only a little bit.

"You will regret that now, da." Russia smiled, 10 times creepier.

Arthur then glared and changed form, back to the original raven and he flew out of the room.

"Let's get you to help, and then you can give me vodka." Russia told the unconscious England as he untied him.

America's POV.

America was grossed out by the room, burgers and blood do not mix.

America felt something strange and quickly moved to the left, just barely dodging a bat that had nails in it.

"You're in my room." A rude and blunt voice called.

2P!England makes his appearance… D: and is most likely not in character D:

Next fight is America's.

…I think I creeped myself out…

And if you're wondering about Russia, England was doing his chant when Malfoy said, "Enemies of the heir beware? You'll be next Mudbloods." And England never quite finished his chant.

Hope I described that better than the last fight…

Poor England D:


	23. Chapter 23 I need a Hero

I need a hero

DISCLAIMER I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OF HETALIA!

^^^Ha! I remembered! Twice in a row!

Just got back from camping : )

HAHAHA hope you like this chapter~! -has no idea how to write 2p! America.

(A/N) 2p!England was easier to write.

**VIOLENCE! LANGUAGE! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! (these are the 2P!'s we are talking about.)**

America just barely dodged the spiked baseball bat, and he looked to who had thrown it, and he gasped loudly when he saw that it was himself, only had brown hair, tanner skin and a creepy grin.

"You're in my room." His double said again, bluntly and rudely.

"Er… Could you point me the way out dude?" America laughed nervously, this guy was giving him the creeps.

"No." The darker America stated.

"Er, who are you?" America asked staring at himself walking by, towards where the baseball bat was stuck in a wall.

"America." The copycat stated.

"No way dude! My name is America, and I'm the hero~!" America shouted loudly, but backed up a bit when the other America swung the bat over his shoulder, looking ready for a baseball to hit.

"Well… I guess you could say… I'm the villain." The dark America laughed, creepy.

"No way dude! America must be the hero! Not the villain!" America said loudly, backing up because the other America was smirking with sharp, pointy teeth.

The other American took the bat and swung it with inhuman speed, and it was just on the normal America's shoulder

(A/N This is getting confusing, so I'm going to say this 2P!America-Alfred, 1P!America- America,)

America took a sideways glance at the silver bat, with nails, now on his shoulder, it didn't hurt, and it was just gently lying there.

"Uh… Dude?" America asked, but was getting more and more freaked out.

"I'm going to rip you up, strand by strand." Alfred said bluntly, as he pulled the baseball bat back the pieces of thread that got stuck to the nails ripped, and left America without one sleeve.

"CRAP!" America shouted, as he dodged another blow, sidestepping out of the way.

But Alfred was not one to back down; he was the type of person who would beat the crap out of anyone who got in his way. (A/N I think…)

Alfred mercilessly pounded the floorboard with the nailed bat, every time he missed America; America was back flipping and sidestepping out of the way, the smell of the room was staring to give him a headache, so the back flipping was not helping.

"du-dude! C-calm down!" America shouted, only earning an extremely cocky smile from Alfred.

"You look scared." Alfred stated. "You should be terrified."

"W-what?" America asked, barely dodging a nail.

"I'm about to destroy you," Alfred laughed, "What do you think?" And with that the club came slashing down, again, but as America sidestepped, the bat followed, successfully jamming into his side.

"D-dammit." America gasped, as he saw blood on the silver bat that was at his side.

"Like a porcupine or an arrow, it'll hurt more coming out." Alfred laughed; with a cocky smirk and dark red eyes.

He was right; the pain America felt next was painful indeed. Alfred pulled it out slowly, just to see the pain on America's face, with what he was very pleased.

America watched horrified/in disgust, as lots of blood began to show, dripping onto the floor, and staining the already stained baseball bat, some of his skin hanging around the nails on the bat, it was just… wrong.

America clutched his side once the bat was out, and did not waste a second as he ran into the next room. He didn't dare look behind him, he kept his hand around his side, and his other hand had his wand.

…his… wand?

The wand was a banana.

Wtf?

'…It must be the illusions!' America thought, 'That other me is just the monster! It can shape shift, can't it?'

America used his fake banana wand, pointed it at Alfred and shouted, "STUPEFY!"

"Bananas aren't good conductors of magic," Alfred laughed, "Prepare to die."

America quickly dodged the bat, his banana wand got crushed by the nails and splattered, making America feel nauseous, and that could have been him. Many times...

"This will be quicker if you sit still." Alfred lunged with the baseball bat, and America took out a dagger. The dagger got stuck in between two nails, which were bent because of all the smashing.

The two had a battle of strength, the dagger stayed firmly in place and America was able to use enough strength to push the bat completely away, America still clutched tightly onto the dagger.

Alfred then began swiping mercilessly with the bat, and he smirked as he got another hit, America's other side.

"DAMMIT!" America shouted as the pain rushed through him again.

Alfred grinned as he slowly pulled it out once more, Watching America's reaction to the pain.

America backed up a few steps, one hand across his body, the other hand holding his dagger.

"The hero doesn't always win." Alfred said laughing.

"Yes, he just needs… the right. Moment." America said, trying to sound strong, but had to gasp in between words.

"The right moment? Ha. My last battle I won. They lost. No right moment there." Alfred laughed, "What makes you so special?"

America glared at Alfred, "what. Other… Fight?"

"You should have seen the scared look on his face." Alfred laughed a twisted laugh, "Even knocked him out."

"w-." America began but was immediately cut off as the Alfred changed form.

It was now wearing a pink sweater vest and blue tie; it had bright blue eyes swirled with pink.

…It… looked like… England…

"Would you like a cupcake, love?" The England asked, in a sickening sweet voice.

"Y-you, couldn't ha-have?" America began. But the monster changed back into Alfred.

"That England sure was scared." The creature Alfred laughed.

"What did you do to England?" America shouted, pain in his throat emerging as he coughed up some blood, but he used all his force, and focus at that moment, to send Alfred flying, with a punch that could rival captain falcons'. Alfred was thrown into the bloodstained wall, receiving a few himself.

"You're going to die now." Alfred laughed as he charged with the bat.

"I don't think so!" America shouted, taking his arm away from his wounds, throwing away the dagger, and punching the Alfred in the face with all his might, he only had one shot at this.

.

.

.

And Alfred blocked the punch to the face.

"You really think that could beat m-…" Alfred began but a shocked pained look came across his face.

America had not only thrown a full force punch to his face but his other arm, that was holding the dagger before, sent one to the gut, by instinct Alfred had blocked the one to his face, and did not notice the other punch.

Alfred glared; he then changed into a raven monster and flew away, leaving America with his injuries.

"…Just needed… T-the right mo-ment…" America said, shakily as he tried to walk over to the bloodstained counter.

"Ca-Canada? Fra-ance? E-England?" America called out, as he fell to the floor, a few meters from the counter, a small pool of blood surrounding him.

America was lying on the floor and tried to open his eyes.

Were his frien-. No. Family in trouble? Did they…Did they need a hero?

.

.

.

Just like he did?

And with that America blacked out.

.

.

.

Random thing, I'm listening to~ (pa-pa-pa-pa-la-pa, Panda Hero~)

Are you guys enjoying my attempt at creepy fights? I'm trying to make them more detailed, but its… kind of creeping myself out.

ALSO

…What is 2P! France like? I have no idea, so any suggestions? I already have 545 words for Canada's fight, so it should be on later today or tomorrow. (We just got back from camping and I'm VERY lazy right now sorry.)

So yeah, I just need information on what 2P!France is like…

Canada's fight is next.

Now I feel bad for England AND America: (


	24. Chapter 24 Remember the name?

Remember the name.

I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR HETALIA

Third time in a row I remembered~!

**Warning: VIOLENCE T.T**

2P! Canada (MOST LIKLEY OOC!)

Canada stumbled around on the ice, it was just too slippery, and he had no ice-skates, but right now for him, that didn't matter, what mattered was getting out of this… Illusion and back to reality. He still had a really bad feeling about this place.

Canada squinted as he looked across the rink, but almost jumped a foot when he felt something on his shoulder.

Canada looked to his right shoulder; the bloody hockey stick was laying on it. It smelled like rotting… well… you don't want to know.

Scared and completely pale, Canada turned around to face… Himself?

He had his hair in a small ponytail, and was wearing a red Mountie uniform; he also had some black glasses on.

"Eh!" Canada shouted in surprise, falling onto the ice; "WH-who are you?"

His double did not seem impressed.

"Who the hell do you think?" The double asked in a sarcastic tone.

"Y-you c-can't be… Me?" Canada asked quietly, only receiving a look from his double, who we shall now call Matthew, which said 'Duh.'

"Let me make this clear," Matthew said, "I'm going to kill you."

Matthew swung the hockey stick, spinning Canada, so they were facing each other.

"And you're going to die."

Canada clutched Kumacherrio, and held tightly onto his wand that was in his pocket.

Matthew lifted the Hockey stick high up, and then as soon as it started to smash down; Canada whipped his wand out and shouted…whispered; "Protego!"

A shield formed around Canada and Kumacherrio, Matthew looked unpleased.

"Magic." Matthew scoffed. "Useless."

"Magic I-isn't useless! I-it's helpful!" Canada said as he jumped up, effectively slipping and falling again.

"Bullmoose." Matthew snapped.

Matthew glared as he took his bloody hockey stick and swung it at Canada's arm, making a 'Snap'

Canada's eyes widened and he gripped his right arm with his left, Kumaji tucked under his arm safely.

'I-I thought it was an illusion, this thing must be the monster!' Canada thought, as the pain in his right arm intensified.

"E-eh!" Canada gasped as the hockey stick smashed back down, Canada was just able to back up on the slippery ice to dodge the attack.

"Not so good on ice without skates, are you?" Matthew taunted, showing his skates.

Canada paled a bit more. The skates were leaving a trail of blood, and the skates themselves had blood on them.

Matthew started to skate around Canada, his hockey stick pointed at the nation the whole time. Canada watched, not sure what to do, and did the only thing he could at the time. He took out his dagger and shielded himself with it.

"A puny little dagger isn't going to help you." Matthew laughed.

"I-it could!" Canada said, slowly getting up, Kumajoe was now on his left shoulder, Canada's broken arm was lying almost lifelessly at his side.

Matthew only gave a cruel laugh, and then he skated forwards, getting ready to hit his new found hockey puck.

Canada Grabbed Kumajim off his shoulder, dropped the dagger, and held tightly to his bear. He braced himself.

Matthew swung the hockey stick straight at Canada, and Canada slid across the ice just like a hockey puck, hitting a side board, and coughing up blood.

"Huh?" Kumacherrio asked, worried, looking up at his owner.

"y-you okay? k-k-Kumajirou?" Canada asked weakly, finally getting his bear's name right and coughed up more blood.

Kumajee looked up sadly, with big sad bear eyes and asked one simple question, "Why?"

"B-because, y-y…" Canada trailed off as Matthew came into view, grinning.

"Still awake are you?" Matthew laughed.

Canada felt as if he couldn't move, he felt paralyzed. There was blood around him and the smell of it made him feel nauseous, he could feel his head spinning, he was sure if he didn't do something soon, he and Kumajiro were both going to be in big trouble.

Kumajirou stood up on the slippery ice and walked in front of Canada, who was clutching his arm, pain showing clearly on his face.

"W-what are you d-doing!" Canada tried to yell at his bear.

"Canadiana." His bear said firmly, giving a sad little smile.

"K-KUMA!" Canada yelled as Matthew smirked at the bear.

"Whacha gunna do little guy?" Matthew taunted, "Gunna fight ME?" He then gave a cruel laugh.

"K-Kumajirou! P-please! Come here!" Canada pleaded, as tears welled up his eyes, he didn't want his little bear to get hurt.

Kumajirou sprinted right past Matthew, away from both Matthew and Canada.

Canada stared in disbelief as his bear ran away, more tears welling up in his eyes, why would Kumajirou do that, it wasn't like him!

"HA!" Matthew burst out laughing. "It doesn't care about you!" Matthew then placed the hockey stick on top of Canada's head, the smell made Canada want to vomit.

"Even your own animal doesn't know your name!" Matthew continued to laugh, "**No one** does, why would they care?"

Matthew then lifted the stick above his own head with both hands, ready to smash down.

"Now, I'll put an end to your pitiful existence!" Matthew shouted bringing the hockey stick down.

Canada closed his eyes and looked away, he still couldn't move, and the pain he was feeling was unbearable. Not only physically. His bear-.. he just ran. It wasn't like him! Was that Kumajirou an illusion? Kumajirou would never run like that, there was no way Kumajirou would leave him like this!

Canada felt the air as the hockey stick came down, but it stopped halfway. Canada carefully opened one eye to see Kumajirou on the back of Matthew; Kumajirou was holding the dagger with his teeth, and had just stabbed Matthew in the back, at the neck area. Matthew had a shocked look on his face as blood ran down his red Mountie uniform.

"K-u…ma?" Canada asked, getting tired.

Matthew gave both Canada and Kumajirou a death glare before he changed into a raven, Canada couldn't tell what colors it was because his vision was getting blurry.

"Canada?" His bear asked, putting his head on the nation's knee.

"Kumajirou." Canada whispered, trying to move, but couldn't.

"Now what?" His bear asked, climbing onto the nation's lap and sitting, just like he always did.

"w-we wait for someone." Canada answered. "T-they will remember, I-I have no doubt about that."

Canada started to fall to the ice, blacking out, and Kumajirou quickly went to were his head was going to land on the ice, and let Canada's head rest on him.

"There's no way anyone would forget about you, Canada." Kumajirou said, shifting to make Canada more comfortable. "Your Family will always be there when you really need it."

OMG POOR CANADA! T.T

NOW I FEEL REALLY BAD FOR ENGLAND, AMERICA AND CANADA T.T

…France's fight is next… T.T

No more today, sorry, I'll start writing France's tomorrow...


	25. Chapter 25 Try, And keep Trying

Alright First things first, 2P! France will most likely NOT be in character, Lots of things are different about each 2P! France, so I tried to make him 'In character...' But most likely he isn't sorry.

OMG. THIS IS **Two days** LATE. *is ashamed of myself* (I was stuck at 120 words for TWO DAYS. *Le gasp!*) And it isn't even that good : (

I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR HETALIA.

Warning: Violence.

This chapter isn't that serious at parts… sorry.

France looked around the room, it was dark and gloomy, not to mention the smell coming from it, was rather distasteful. There were blood stains everywhere. And the one rose in the bottle was white, not red, and the bottle had blood smears on it. The Room looked like a cross between a Living room and a bedroom. France wondered around, looking for a door, even a window, but found none.

"Why are you trying to leave? The party has only just begun." A sly voice called from the other side of the room.

France turned around only to see, himself. A tanner version of himself with dark circles under his eyes, and was wearing a purple shirt with black pants, it was… Creepy.

"Why is there two of me?" France asked his double, who we will call Francis to avoid confusion.

"I don't know, you tell me." Francis said shrugging, and walked over to the couch.

"Could you, possibly, point me the way out?" France asked raising an eyebrow at Francis, Was this a monster? Or an illusion? Or maybe even another person?

"Why would you want out?" Francis asked kicking of his shoes and sitting on the couch.

France looked at his double, and then around the room again, this could be an illusion, couldn't it? But then again, it could be the monster, in disguise, but… as whom? England had said that it can change shape and form, as well as match a personality… So…?

"Who, exactly, are you?" France asked his double.

"I guess you could say, I. Am you." Francis said, getting back off the couch, He grabbed a white rose, and smelled it.

France raised an eyebrow, wondering how this double could be him.

Francis smirked, and something fell out of his sleeve, France quickly side stepped to avoid whatever was coming, and looked behind him only to see 6 thorns in the wall beside him.

"Ce qui était que, pour?" France asked , wondering why he was being attacked.

"For existing." Francis replied another 6 thorns fell out of his sleeves, three on each side, wolverine style, in between his fingers; He crossed his arms, and released the thorns, aiming them straight at France.

France dodged, barely getting scratched, he then took out his wand, and was ready to cast a spell, when Francis threw six more thorns, Each landing precisely in a line on his wand, sticking threw both ends.

France looked at his wand in surprised but quickly forgot about it as Francis ran forward; France took out his old pirate sword, and quickly put it in front of him. Francis then side kicked France, only to be blocked by the sword. Francis then jumped back, and did a backflip.

"Resistance is futile." Francis stated (told you he wouldn't be in character D: )

France ignored Francis and then he took his pirate sword and slashed Francis' Shoulder, Francis grinned and laughed, taking out a thorn, in the shape of a dagger.

France tried to sidestep, but Francis tripped him, holding the dagger to his neck.

France pushed the dagger away with his pirate sword; glaring at his so called 'self', or double, and from the bloodied floor, he sent a kick towards Francis' Legs, effectively tripping him, Francis fell into the small table that held the white rose, and the bottle holding the white rose came crashing down.

Francis took out his dagger, and punched France in the gut, then tripped him, and was ready to do a final smash, using the dagger.

As soon as France saw the gleaming red dagger come down, he did a barrel roll out of the way.

Francis' dagger got stuck in the ground, and he left it, he then pulled out some more thorns, and tried to slash at France.

France tried to block the slashes with his sword, but he couldn't block all of them.

Francis' pulled out some thorns and threw them right at France's Right leg, and they punctured threw the flesh, and got stuck in the bone.

"Ah!" France yelled in pain, grabbing his right leg.

Francis' Then Punched France's 'Beautiful' face, sending him flying backwards.

France grunted in pain, he found it hard to see, and he could feel pain rushing from his right leg, and from his head.

France could barely see Francis walking over, and when he could see him he saw double.

Francis stood in front of France, His dark circled eyes almost glaring.

"Goodbye." Francis laughed, still glaring, as he stabbed France with his own old pirate sword, Causing France to cough up blood.

France stared at the sword, trying to stay conscious, He had to beat this thing, and he had to! What if it found L'Angleterre, Amerique? What if he found his dear little Mathieu?

France glared at his other self, Francis, Who only laughed, before changing into a raven, a dark green raven, France noticed, as he coughed up more blood.

France reached for the sword, to try and pull it ou, so he could find help.

Help for not just him, he wanted to help his friends, his family! He wanted to… He wanted to… At least, try. And if he failed, he would try again, and again until he got it right.

"L'Angleterre; Amerique, Mon petite Mathieu." France said sadly, "We shall all be alright."

The room around France slowly began to drift away, France laid his hand on the pirate sword.

"I need. To. Try." France coughed as he pulled the sword a little, pain rushing throughout his body.

"Try. Harder." France told himself, coughing up more blood.

The room had completely changed, and it was all one dark, blue corridor.

"W-what's g-going. On?" France asked, to know one, as one by one he started seeing a familiar face.

America.

England.  
Canada.

France winced, they had all been beaten up as well, France tried to ignore the pain surging throughout his body, but it was getting stronger.

"France, you will be alright, da?" a Russian voice asked.

"O-Oui." France managed to answer before blacking out.

"Hmm… I think we will be needing help…" Russia sighed.

Russia walked over to the center of the room, it was a square room and France, America, England and Canada were all in a circle, laying, motionless.

Russia smiled as a creature came through the floor.

It was an injured raven.

Russia took out his pipe. And smiled.

"You almost cost me my vodka, you will pay now, da?"

(The end of the Ravenclaw fights… How was it? France's was the hardest to write, I couldn't think of 2P!France, I couldn't think of what he would say or anything… I hope it was close.)

Translation:

Ce qui était que, pour! = What was that for! (I had to use Google translate for this, so it might be wrong.)

My friend helped me write this chapter : )

Next chapter sooner than this one was, most likely later today. It is 5:52 am.


	26. Chapter 26 We need some time

Grr… I forgot again, last chapter.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR HETALIA.

Okay, moving on~.

I stayed up all night writing this chapter and last chapter, I started righting at about 10:00pm it is currently 8:00am.

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**This Chapter is based on the ideas from two awesome reviewers!**

**SPECIAL SHOUT OUT TO YOU TWO!**

**Box of Tomato Fairy~!**

**YamiIcepath~!**

**Thank you, for the great ideas!**

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Russia was very satisfied with his accomplishment; the raven was now in the middle of the floor. Dead. And Russia had only a single scratch, on his cheek.

England was covered in scratches and cuts, he was mostly covered in blood, his and his other self's blood; He had a large and deep cut in his middle, a deep cut on his cheek, and was bleeding, a little everywhere.

America had huge gashes in his sides, blood all over his jacket and shirt, and pretty much all over the floor around him. He had a very pained look on his face, and was slightly shaking.

Canada was paralyzed and had a broken arm, he couldn't move but he could talk… He just wasn't awake yet.

France Had thrones sticking threw his leg, and his old pirate sword was currently threw his middle, blood around it.

Russia looked at them all, then walked over to England, He gently poked England's cheek.

"England, you are awake, Da?" Russia asked.

"N-n. Re-lly." England barley managed to answer, his eyes were slightly opened.

"You can show me way to help." Russia said, Picking up England, carefully.

England slowly looked around the room, trying not to give himself a headache, and he pointed towards a blackish green door.

"We will be right back, so do not worry." Russia told the unconscious countries.

Russia walked through the blackish green door, which led out to a Hallway, the hallway led to a portrait hole, which was the way they originally had come.

"Which way now, England?" Russia asked, still smiling a small smile.

England looked around, they were currently in the main entrance, and they needed help fast, so the best bet was… The Great Hall.

England pointed right.

Russia went right.

Russia walked towards the Great Hall doors, and opened them up slowly; he was still carrying England, so that was hard to do. The doors where huge.

Once the doors opened every, Single, Student, Looked towards the Russian and Brit.

Draco was very pale, but laughed saying something about 'getting what he deserved'.

Hermione almost fainted, Ron choked on his pumpkin juice, and Harry stared, mouth wide opened. Dumbledore lost his sparkle, McGonagall Looked ready to faint, Hagrid looked upset…

Lockhart looked… Lockhart like.

There was confusion, questions, rumors, shocked faces, Scarred faces, pretty much a mixture of everything…

Russia carried England towards the front of the Great Hall, ignoring the rumors that were already spreading like wildfire, and to Where Dumbledore was.

"What happened?" Dumbledore asked, almost demanded, referring to the bleeding Slytherin in the stranger's arms.

"They were attacked by Raven creature, which attacked them. Do you have Vodka?" Russia answered and asked.

"A raven creature?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes. Like Raven. Only it is not." Russia answered smiling.

"n-d…lp…" England tried to say, but it didn't quite work… He said they needed help, he then coughed up a bit more blood.

"Someone get that Boy to the hospital wing! Immediately!" Professor McGonagall Said loudly.

"Where are the rest of them?" Dumbledore asked, in a serious tone, As Someone performed a levitation spell on England, getting him to the hospital wing.

"I am not quite sure, but they are near Raven tower, behind portrait, that helps, da?" Russia asked smiling.

Dumbledore seemed to be thinking for a moment then he answered; "Would you please show me, where exactly?"

"Da." Russia answered; he would get his Vodka soon.

Dumbledore followed Russia, Along with Gilderoy Lockhart, Professor McGonagall, and professor Flitwick, and Professor Snape, to the spot Russia was talking about.

There was blood everywhere.

Lockhart fainted.

McGonagall looked angry.

Flitwick was behind McGonagall.

Dumbledore lost his sparkle.

Snape pretended not to notice.

"You help them, da?" Russia asked, smiling.

"Of course!" Flitwick piped up, but he was still wondering who the stranger was.

Flitwick performed a healing spell on America, France and then Canada.

Snape levitated France to the hospital wing, McGonagall levitated America, and Flitwick levitated Canada. Dumbledore levitated Lockhart, who had fainted.

Russia followed.

(Hospital wing POV)

England was already on one of the bed's And had the healing charm cast on him, America was put on the bed to the right, Right to America was Canada, And right to Canada was France. All nations were currently resting to regain their strength.

"They are alright now, da?" Russia asked, smiling.

"Of course, they will be healed in no time, what with me being here and all." Lockhart laughed.

Snape glared daggers at Lockhart.

"So who are you?" Dumbledore asked Russia kindly.

"Ivan Braginski." Russia, also known as 'Ivan' answered.

"And how did you get into the school?" Dumbledore asked, curious.

"Arthur called da?" Ivan answered, his smile did not move.

"Arthur called you?" McGonagall asked, "We cannot use phones at Hogwarts."

"No. He did not call on a phone. He summoned me, da?" Ivan answered.

"He summoned you?" Professor Snape sneered.

Ivan nodded, smiling.

"He is very bad at magic." Ivan stated.

(POV GREAT HALL GRYFFINDOR)

"W-wasn't that Arthur?" Hermione asked in shock, just as Dumbledore, The professors and Arthur left with the Russian.

"Yeah, He seemed really beat up…" Harry said, almost in disbelief.

"What could've happened?" Ron asked, recovering from choking on his pumpkin juice.

"Didn't Alfred say He was meeting up with Arthur, Francis and Matthew?" Hermione asked.

"Yea, he asked us to cover for him, say he was sick, why?" Ron asked.

"Because! What ever happened, probably happened when they were meeting up! But, what could have attacked them?" Hermione asked herself, more than Ron or Harry.

"Who knows?" Ron answered.

"Wish there was something we could do to help." Harry said.

"I agree." Hermione… Agreed.

The feast was soon over and the golden trio headed for their common room.

(THE NEXT DAY: FACE: POV)

America slowly woke up, his sides where aching but he wasn't quite sure why…

And then he nearly jumped a foot when he remembered.

America quickly looked around the room, and was relieved to see everyone was there, a little beaten up but, still there, but might as well make sure they were not illusions or monsters anymore.

"Hey, Canada!" America whispered to the twin nation, a bed over.

"W-whaa?" Canada asked confused, and then shouted/whispered; "They do so!" And then fell back asleep.

'Do so what?' America wondered, But decided to check France, see if he was alright.

"...Hey France!" America called, across Canada, to France.

"NON!" France nearly shouted, Jumping a foot in the air, turning over, and going back to sleep.

"Okay, Canada is arguing and France said No…" America started and then interrupted himself; "Iggy! Hey! England!"

"I DON'T WANT A CUPCAKE!" And with that England fell out of bed, and woke the other two nations up completely.

"Iggy?" America asked, But immediately new what England was talking about… Pink sweater vest. Blue tie. America saw it, the other England.

"I-I don't want a cupcake." England whispered, to himself.

"You can't have a cupcake." America said, with a sad smile.

For the next few days things were going to be strange? Weren't they?

(This is a family/Humor/Adventure fiction, I don't write Romance, sorry.)

**IMPORTANT.**

**This Chapter is based on the ideas from two awesome reviewers!**

**SPECIAL SHOUT OUT TO YOU TWO!**

**Box of Tomato Fairy~!**

**YamiIcepath~!**

**Thank you again for the great ideas!**


	27. Chapter 27 SoWhere's Russia?

It was now nearly four months since Justin and Nearly Headless Nick had been Petrified, and nearly everybody seemed to think that the attacker, whoever it was, had retired for good.

Peeves had finally got bored of his "Oh, Potter, you rotter" song, Ernie Macmillan asked Harry quite politely to pass a bucket of leaping toadstools in Herbology one day, and in March several of the Mandrakes threw a loud and raucous party in greenhouse three. This made Professor Sprout very happy. "The moment they start trying to move into each other's pots, we'll know they're fully mature," she told Harry. "Then we'll be able to revive those poor people in the hospital wing.

The second years were given something new to think about during their Easter holidays. The time had come to choose their subjects for the third year, a matter that Hermione, at least, took very seriously.

it could affect our whole future," she told Harry and Ron as they pored over lists of new subjects, marking them with checks. "I just want to give up Potions," said Harry.

"We can't," said Ron gloomily. "We keep all our old subjects, or I'd' ve ditched Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"But that's very important!" said Hermione, shocked.

"Not the way Lockhart teaches it," said Ron. "I haven't learned anything from him except not to set pixies loose."

Neville Longbottom had been sent letters from all the witches and wizards in his family, all giving him different advice on what to choose. Confused and worried, he sat reading the subject lists with his tongue poking out, asking people whether they thought Arithmancy sounded more difficult than the study of Ancient Runes. Dean Thomas, who, like Harry, had grown up with Muggles, ended up closing his eyes and jabbing his wand at the list, then picking the subjects it landed on.

Hermione took nobody's advice but signed up for everything.

And the common room portrait swung open?

All of the Gryffindors in the common room turned to see who had entered, it was Alfred, he had bandages on his side, And up his body, almost like a shirt, and his bomber jacket was on top.

"Alfred?" Hermione asked, putting down what she was doing.

"Ya, I just need a new shirt…" Alfred trailed off and left to the boy's dormitory.

"He was attacked, wasn't he?" Harry stated, rather than answered.

"I hope their alright!" Hermione said.

"He doesn't seem as cheerful as usual." Ron commented, as Alfred came back down the stairs, giving them a raised eyebrow.

"Er…? Why are you all looking at me like that?" Alfred asked, noticing the scared looks on their faces.

"You were attacked weren't you!" Hermione said loudly, "Is that why you skipped class, To look for trouble!"

"I wasn't looking for trouble." Alfred stated, almost frowning, "I needed to be there." He then made his way to the portrait hole/door.

"Cause you're the Hero~, Right?" Ron asked, attempting to cheer him up.

"No." Alfred said as he left, leaving a shocked golden trio.

But the golden trio didn't hear what he said after he left; "Because they needed me… And I needed them."

"Something is definitely wrong…" Ron said in disbelief.

"What could have happened?" Harry wondered.

"We can go give them a surprise visit." Hermione said, "But first we should finish picking our classes.

Harry had no idea what to do, but, Percy Weasley was eager to share his experiences with Harry.

"Depends where you want to go, Harry," he said. "It's never too early to think about the future, so I'd recommend Divination. People say Muggle Studies is a soft option, but I personally think wizards should have a thorough understanding of the non-magical community, particularly if they're thinking of working in close contact with them-look at my father, he has to deal with Muggle business all the time. My brother Charlie was always more of an outdoor type, so he went for Care of Magical Creatures. Play to your strengths, Harry."

But the only thing Harry felt he was really good at was Quidditch. In the end, he chose the same new subjects as Ron, feeling that if he was lousy at them, at least he'd have someone friendly to help him.

"Alright, let's go now." Hermione declared, putting her things away.

(Hospital wing FACE POV.)  
(The day after the fight, around lunchtime)

Francis was sitting up, with a bit difficulty, in his bed, he still had pain in his stomach, but the magic charms were helping him heal faster, they had removed the thorns for him, and wrapped his leg in a bandage. He was in a pretty good condition, considering what had happened.

Matthew was propped up against the bed, so he could sit. He had to drink anti-paralyzing potion every few hours. He was currently able to wiggle his toes, talk and move his fingers. Madam Pomfrey had already fixed his broken arm, without making him lose any bones like Lockhart did to Harry.

England was sleeping, under the blankets. England's minor cuts were mostly healed, He had bandages around his stomach where he was stabbed; the cut on his cheek had a bandage on it. _Physically_ he was in the best condition…

America walked over to his own bed, and sat down. He had bandages around his stomach and up, covering most of his upper body; his wounds were being healed, just not as quickly as he would like them to be. He still felt pain when he walked.

France sighed, "That wasn't much better than last fight."

America agreed, nodding his head.

"And there's still two more…" Canada whispered.

"They can't really be worse, can they?" France asked, to no one in particular.

The hospital wing's door opened, causing the three nations who were awake to look.

"Hello?" Harry's, Hermione's and Ron's voices called.

"Bonjour." Francis greeted, with a weak smile.

"Hey." Alfred greeted, looking to be in deep thought.

"Hello." Matthew greeted with a small soft smile.

"Where's Arthur?" Ron asked, only to notice a bed started to shake.

"Hey, Iggy? Are you alright?" Alfred asked, looking to the shaking bed on his left.

No answer.

"Is he having a nightmare?" Harry suggested/asked.

"I hope not." Alfred, Matthew and Francis answered at the same time.

The shaking stopped, and Arthur popped his head out from under the blankets, still sleeping.

Alfred seemed to suddenly remember something, and he lost the 'deep in thought' look on his face.

"Have you guys seen a tall Russian guy?"

"The one who brought Arthur to the great hall?" Ron asked.

"YES!" Alfred said loudly.

"I'm not sure."

"Where is… Where is Ivan?" Alfred wondered.

"He came in a while ago, when you were still sleeping." Francis said.

"He said he Got a job, and some vodka." Canada added.

"A job?" America asked.

(POV Switch: The Golden Trio.)

"Well, we have to get going, but do feel better!" Hermione said after a few minutes of conversation.

The golden trio left, still not sure what could have injured them all so much, but it was DEFINITLY not the right time to ask.

**Pagebreak…**

Gryffindor's next Quidditch match would be against Hufflepuff. Wood was insisting on team practices every night after dinner, so that Harry barely had time for anything but Quidditch and homework. However, the training sessions were getting better, or at least drier, and the evening before Saturday's match he went up to his dormitory to drop off his broomstick feeling Gryffindor's chances for the Quid-ditch cup had never been better.

But his cheerful mood didn't last long. At the top of the stairs to the dormitory, he met Neville Long-bottom, who was looking frantic. "Harry-I don't know who did it-I just found-"

Watching Harry fearfully, Neville pushed open the door. The contents of Harry's trunk had been thrown everywhere. His cloak lay ripped on the floor. The bed-clothes had been pulled off his four-poster and the drawer had been pulled out of his bedside cabinet, the contents strewn over the mattress. Harry walked over to the bed, open-mouthed, treading on a few loose pages of Travels with Trolls. Ashe and Neville pulled the blankets back onto his bed, Ron, Dean, and Seamus came in.

Dean swore loudly. "What happened, Harry?"

"No idea," said Harry. But Ron was examining Harry's robes. All the pockets were hanging out. "Someone's been looking for something," said Ron. "Is there anything missing?" Harry started to pick up all his things and throw them into his trunk. It was only as he threw the last of the Lockhart books back into it that he realized what wasn't there.

"Riddle's diary's gone," he said in an undertone to Ron.

"What?"

Harry jerked his head toward the dormitory door and Ron followed him out. They hurried down to the Gryffindor common room, which was half-empty, and joined Hermione, who was sitting alone, reading a book called Ancient Runes Made Easy. Hermione looked aghast at the news.

"But-only a Gryffindor could have stolen-nobody else knows our password-"

"Exactly," said Harry.

They woke the next day to brilliant sunshine and a light, refreshing breeze.

"Perfect Quidditch conditions!" said Wood enthusiastically at the Gryffindor table, loading the team's plates with scrambled eggs. "Harry, buck up there, you need a decent breakfast."

Harry had been staring down the packed Gryffindor table, wondering if the new owner of Riddle's diary was right in front of his eyes. Hermione had been urging him to report the robbery, but Harry didn't like the idea. He'd have to tell a teacher all about the diary, and how many people knew why Hagrid had been expelled fifty years ago? He didn't want to be the one who brought it all up again. As he left the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione to go and collect his Quidditch things, another very serious worry was added to Harry's growing list.

He had just set foot on the marble staircase when he heard it yet again "Kill this time... Let me rip... Tear..." He shouted aloud and Ron and Hermione both jumped away from him in alarm.

"The voice!" said Harry, -looking over his shoulder. "I just heard it again-didn't you?"

Ron shook his head, wide-eyed. Hermione, however, clapped a hand to her forehead. "Harry-I think I've just understood something! I've got to go to the library!" And she sprinted away, up the stairs. "What does she understand?" said Harry distractedly; still looking around, trying to tell where the voice had come from.

"Loads more than I do," said Ron, shaking his head.

"But why's she got to go to the library?"

"Because that's what Hermione does," said Ron, shrugging. "When in doubt, go to the library."

Harry stood, irresolute, trying to catch the voice again, but people were now emerging from the Great Hall behind him, talking loudly, exiting through the front doors on their way to the Quidditch pitch.

"You'd better get moving," said Ron. "It's nearly eleven-the match-"

Harry raced up to Gryffindor Tower, collected his Nimbus Two Thousand, and joined the large crowd swarming across the grounds, but his mind was still in the castle along with the bodiless voice, and as he pulled on his scarlet robes in the locker. Room, his only comfort was that everyone was now outside to watch the game. The teams walked onto the field to tumultuous applause.

Oliver Wood took off for a warm-up flight around the goal posts; Madam Hooch released the balls. The Hufflepuffs, who played in canary yellow, were standing in a huddle, having a last-minute discussion of tactics. Harry was just mounting his broom when Professor McGonagall came half marching, half running across the pitch, carrying an enormous purple megaphone. Harry's heart dropped like a stone.

"This match has been cancelled," Professor McGonagall called through the megaphone, addressing the packed stadium. There were boos and shouts. Oliver Wood, looking devastated, landed and ran toward Professor McGonagall without getting off his broomstick.

"But, Professor!" he shouted. "We've got to play-the cup-Gryffindor-"

Professor McGonagall ignored him and continued to shout through her megaphone: "All students are to make their way back to the House common rooms, where their Heads of Houses will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!" Then she lowered the megaphone and beckoned Harry over to her.

"Potter, I think you'd better come with me..." Wondering how she could possibly suspect him this time, Harry saw Ron detach himself from the complaining crowd; he came running up to them as they set off toward the castle. To Harry's surprise, Professor McGonagall didn't object. "Yes, perhaps you'd better come, too, Weasley..." Some of the students swarming around them were grumbling about the match being canceled; others looked worried.

Harry and Ron followed Professor McGonagall back into the school and up the marble staircase. But they weren't taken to anybody's Office this time.

"This will be a bit of a shock, " said Professor McGonagall in a surprisingly gentle voice as they approached the Hospital wing. "There has been another attack... Another double attack."

Harry's insides did a horrible somersault. Professor McGonagall pushed the door open and he and Ron entered. Madam Pomfrey was bending over a fifth-year girl with long, curly hair. Harry recognized her as the Ravenclaw they'd accidentally asked for directions to the Slytherin common room. And on the bed next to her was –

"Hermione!" Ron groaned. Hermione laid utterly still, her eyes open and glassy.

"They were found near the library," said Professor McGonagall. "I don't suppose either of you can ex-plain this? It was on the floor next to them..."

She was holding up a small, circular mirror. Harry and Ron shook their heads, both staring at Hermione.

"I will escort you back to Gryffindor Tower," said Professor McGonagall heavily. "I need to address the students in any case." She then looked towards Alfred, Arthur, Matthew and Francis, who were all still in the hospital wing. You will all come to the Gryffindor tower; it will be safer, than having you all go different ways.

The three who were awake nodded, and Alfred went over to Arthur, so did Matthew.

"I can help you, there." McGonagall said, in understanding, and levitated Arthur.

They made their way quickly to the Gryffindor common room.

"All students will return to their House common rooms by six o'clock in the evening. No student is to leave the dormitories after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student is to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. All further Quidditch training and matches are to be postponed. There will be no more evening activities"

The Gryffindors packed inside the common room listened to Professor McGonagall in silence.

She rolled up the parchment from which she had been reading and said in a somewhat choked voice, "I need hardly add that I have rarely been so distressed. It is likely that the school will be closed unless the culprit behind these attacks is caught. I would urge anyone who thinks they might know anything about them to come forward."

She climbed somewhat awkwardly out of the portrait hole, and the Gryffindors began talking immediately.

"That's two Gryffindors down, not counting a Gryffindor ghost, one Ravenclaw, and one Hufflepuff," said the Weasley twins' friend Lee Jordan, counting on his fingers.

"Haven't any of the teachers noticed that the Slytherins are all safe? Isn't it obvious all this stuff's coming from Slytherin? The Heir of Slytherin, the monster of Slytherin-why don't they just chuck all the Slytherins out?" he roared, to nods and scattered applause.

Alfred, Matthew and Francis looked disapproving at the boy who had just talked.

Percy Weasley was sitting in a chair behind Lee, but for once he didn't seem keen to make his views heard. He was looking pale and stunned.

"Percy's in shock," George told Harry quietly. "That Ravenclaw girl-Penelope Clearwater-she's a prefect. I don't think he thought the monster would dare attack a prefect."

But Harry was only half-listening. He didn't seem to be able to get rid of the picture of Hermione, lying on the hospital bed as though carved out of stone. And if the culprit wasn't caught soon, he was looking at a lifetime back with the Riddle had turned Hagrid in because he was faced with the prospect of a Muggle orphanage if the school closed. Harry now knew exactly how he had felt.

"What're we going to do?" said Ron quietly in Harry's ear. "D'you think they suspect Hagrid?"

"We've got to go and talk to him," said Harry, making up his mind. "I can't believe it's him this time, but if he set the monster loose last time he'll know how to get inside the Chamber of Secrets, and that's a start. "

"But McGonagall said we've got to stay in our tower unless we're in class-"

"I think," said Harry, more quietly still, "it's time to get my dad's old cloak out again."

Harry had inherited just one thing from his father: a long and silvery Invisibility Cloak. It was their only chance of sneaking out of the school to visit Hagrid without anyone knowing about it. They went to bed at the usual time, waited until Neville, Dean, and Seamus had stopped discussing the Chamber of Secrets and finally fallen asleep, then got up, dressed again, and were about to throw the cloak over themselves, but were interrupted.

"Where are you going?" Alfred asked, from the couch, waking up his brother who was sleeping.

"We have to go see Hagrid." Harry told them truthfully, they would understand.

"No." Alfred said firmly.

"What?" Ron asked, thinking he heard wrong, this was Alfred, the laidback, funny Hero they were talking about.

"I said no." Alfred confirmed, crossing his arms.

"If the monsters out you will get attacked! Matthew whispered.

The golden trio looked at each other, wondering what to do, they had to see Hagrid, but Alfred wasn't going to let them apparently.

"I'm Arthur!" Arthur shouted, causing everyone to look at him.

"Umm… Iggy?" Alfred asked, worried.

"No. Cupcakes." Arthur whispered.

Alfred and Matthew went over to Arthur, to see if he was sleeping or not, and try to wake him up, the Golden trio, took this opportunity, but obviously felt bad about it, and put on their cloaks, and leaving.

The journey through the dark and deserted castle corridors wasn't enjoyable. Harry, who had wandered the castle at night several times before, had never seen it so crowded after sunset. Teachers, prefects, and ghosts were marching the corridors in pairs, staring around for any unusual activity. Their Invisibility Cloak didn't stop them making any noise, and there was a particularly tense moment when Ron stubbed his toe only yards from the spot where Snape stood standing guard.

Thankfully, Snape sneezed at almost exactly the moment Ron swore. It was with relief that they reached the oak front doors and eased them open. It was a clear, starry night. They hurried toward the lit windows of Hagrid's house and pulled off the cloak only when they were right outside his front door. Seconds after they had knocked, Hagrid flung it open. They found themselves face-to-face with him aiming a crossbow at them. Fang the boarhound barked loudly behind him.

"Oh," he said, lowering the weapon and staring at them. "What're you two doin' here?"

"What's that for?" said Harry, pointing at the crossbow as they stepped inside.

"Nothin'-nothin'-" Hagrid muttered. "I've bin expectin' doesn' matter-Sit down-I'll make tea-"

"Oi, Matthew, what ar' you doin' here?" Hagrid asked, looking behind Ron and Harry to see a slightly (Very slightly) Annoyed Canadian.

"Eh. That was rude." Canada told Ron and Harry who looked guiltily towards the ground.

Canada had followed Harry and Ron the whole way, without an invisibility cloak. That was pretty ninja.

Hagrid hardly seemed to know what he was doing. He nearly extinguished the fire, spilling water from the kettle on it, and then smashed the teapot with a nervous jerk of his massive hand.

"Are you okay, Hagrid?" said Harry. "Did you hear about Hermione?"

"Oh, I heard, all righ'," said Hagrid, a slight break in his voice.

He kept glancing nervously at the windows. He poured them both large mugs of boiling water (he had forgotten to add tea bags) and was just putting a slab of fruitcake on a plate when there was a loud knock on the door. Hagrid dropped the fruitcake.

Harry and Ron exchanged panic-stricken looks, then threw the Invisibility Cloak back over themselves and retreated into a corner. Canada just stayed where he was, still slightly annoyed. Hagrid checked that they were hidden, seized his crossbow, and flung open his door once more.

"Good evening, Hagrid." It was Dumbledore. He entered, looking deadly serious, and was followed by a second, very odd-looking man. The stranger had rumpled gray hair and an anxious expression, and was wearing a strange mixture of clothes: a pinstriped suit, a scarlet tie, a long black cloak, and pointed purple boots. Under his arm he carried a lime-green bowler.

"That's Dad's boss!" Ron breathed. "Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic!" Harry elbowed Ron hard to make him shut up.

Hagrid had gone pale and sweaty. He dropped into one of his chairs and looked from Dumbledore to Cornelius Fudge.

"Bad business, Hagrid," said Fudge in rather clipped tones. "Very bad business. Had to come. Four attacks on Muggleborns. Things' ve gone far enough. Ministry's got to act."

"I never," said Hagrid, looking imploringly at Dumbledore. "You know I never, Professor Dumbledore, sir-"

"I want it understood, Cornelius, that Hagrid has my full confidence," said Dumbledore, frowning at Fudge. "Look, Albus," said Fudge, uncomfortably. "Hagrid's record's against him. Ministry's got to do some-thing-the school governors have been in touch-"

"Yet again, Cornelius, I tell you that taking Hagrid away will not help in the slightest," said Dumbledore. His blue eyes were full of a fire Harry had never seen before.

"Look at it from my point of view," said Fudge, fidgeting with his bowler. "I'm under a lot of pressure. Got to be seen to be doing something. If it turns out it wasn't Hagrid, he'll be back and no more said. But I've got to take him. Got to. Wouldn't be doing my duty-"

"Take me?" said Hagrid, who was trembling. "Take me where?"

"For a short stretch only," said Fudge, not meeting Hagrid's eyes. "Not a punishment, Hagrid, more a precaution. If someone else is caught, you'll be let out with a full apology-"

"Not Azkaban?" croaked Hagrid.

Canada was surprised, Azkaban was a wizard prison! Hagrid hadn't done anything wrong! Innocent until proven guilty!

Before Fudge could answer, there was another loud rap on the door. Dumbledore answered it. It was Harry's turn for an elbow in the ribs; he'd let out an audible gasp.

Mr. Lucius Malfoy strode into Hagrid's hut, swathed in a long black traveling cloak, smiling a cold and satisfied smile. Fang started to growl.

"Already here, Fudge," he said approvingly. "Good, good... "

"What're you doin' here?" said Hagrid furiously. "Get outta my house!"

"My dear man, please believe me, I have no pleasure at all in being inside your-er-d'you call this a house?" said Lucius Malfoy, sneering as he looked around the small cabin.

Canada was speechless by this mans rudeness.

"I simply called at the school and was told that the headmaster was here."

"And what exactly did you want with me, Lucius?" said Dumbledore. He spoke politely, but the fire was still blazing in his blue eyes.

"Dreadful thing, Dumbledore," said Malfoy lazily, taking out along roll of parchment, "but the governors feel it's time for you to step aside. This is an Order of Suspension-you'll find all twelve signatures on it. I'm afraid we feel you're losing your touch. How many attacks have there been now? Two more this afternoon, wasn't it? Four attacked by something else? At this rate, there'll be no Muggleborns left at Hogwarts, and we all know what an awful loss that would be to the school. "

"Oh, now, see here, Lucius," said Fudge, looking alarmed, "Dumbledore suspended-no, no—last thing we want just now... "

"The appointment-or suspension-of the headmaster is a matter for the governors, Fudge," said Mr. Malfoy smoothly. "And as Dumbledore has failed to stop these attacks-"

"See here, Malfoy, if Dumbledore can't stop them," said Fudge, whose upper lip was sweating now, "I mean to say, who can?"

"That remains to be seen, " said Mr. Malfoy with a nasty smile. "But as all twelve of us have voted-"

Hagrid leapt to his feet, his shaggy black head grazing the ceiling. 'An' how many did yeh have ter threaten an' blackmail before they agreed, Malfoy, eh?" he roared.

"Dear, dear, you know, that temper of yours will lead you into trouble one of these days, Hagrid," said Mr. Malfoy. "I would advise you not to shout at the Azkaban guards like that. They won't like it at all."

"Yeh can' take Dumbledore!" yelled Hagrid, making Fang the boarhound cower and whimper in his basket. "Take him away, an' the Muggleborns won' stand a chance! There'll be killin' next!"

"Calm yourself, Hagrid," said Dumbledore sharply. He looked at Lucius Malfoy. "If the governors want my removal, Lucius, I shall of course step aside-"

"But-" stuttered Fudge.

"No!" growled Hagrid. Dumbledore had not taken his bright blue eyes off Lucius Malfoy's cold gray ones.

"However," said Dumbledore, speaking very slowly and clearly so that none of them could miss a word, "you will find that I will only truly have left this school when none here are loyal to me. You will also find that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."

For a second, Harry was almost sure Dumbledore's eyes flickered towards the corner where he and Ron stood hidden, and straight at The Canadian standing next to a chair.

"Admirable sentiments," said Malfoy, bowing. "We shall all miss your-er-highly individual way of running things, Albus, and only hope that your successor will manage to prevent any-ah-"killin's"."

He strode to the cabin door, opened it and bowed Dumbledore out. Fudge, fiddling with his bowler, waited for Hagrid to go ahead of him, but Hagrid stood his ground, took a deep breath and said carefully, "If anyone wanted ter find out some stuff, all they'd have ter do would be ter follow the spiders. That'd lead 'em right! That's all I'm sayin'."

Fudge stared at him in amazement.

"All right, I'm comin'," said Hagrid, pulling on his moleskin overcoat. But as he was about to follow Fudge through the door, he stopped again and said loudly, "An' someone will need ter feed Fang while I'm away."

The door banged shut and Ron pulled the Invisibility Cloak off. "We're in trouble now," he said hoarsely. "No Dumbledore. They might as well close the school to-night. There'll be an attack a day with him gone." Fang started howling, scratching at the closed door, Canada was holding his bear and walked over to the two kids.

"We should go back now…"

(POV FRANCIS, ALFRED, ARTHUR)

"Hey! Hey! Iggy! Wake up!" America said loudly, smacking England on the head, gently.

"B-Bloody hell Alfred?" England asked turning over.

"Did he ever wake up since the fight?" France wondered.

"BLOODY HELL!" England shouted sitting straight up, looking around quickly.

"Um… Iggy?" America asked looking at the nervous Brit.

"N-nothing…" England sighed, mostly in relief. "Wait…"

"Wait what?" America asked.

"What's the word?" England nearly shouted at America.

"What word…?"

"To prove your Amer-Alfred!" England shouted, but lowered his voice seeing he was in the Gryffindor common room.

"Bird is the word." America calmly answered, "Iggy the fight was a day ago, were all safe."

"W-what, a day ago?" England asked confused.

"Ya, you pointed Russia where you had to go for help." America started.

Francis, England and America all noticed something quite important. Where _WAS_ Russia?


	28. Chapter 28 Russia's Short Adventures

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR HETALIA.

I'm so bored…

Quick short chapter~!

(FACE POV)

France, America, England and Canada snuck over to the room of requirement the very next day.

"Okay, Let's get this meeting started!" America said loudly, sitting down. "Now, what first?"

"I have a question." England said, "What were those… things we were fighting? That the monster took on?"

"Who knows?" America shrugged, thinking of those crazy red eyes and razor sharp teeth… baseball bat with Nails. America shivered.

"Are we going to look for the Slytherin monster? Or Hufflepuff?" France asked.

"Which ever we find first." England answered, sighing.

"Umm. I have Important news." Canada announced.

"What is it Canadiana?" America asked.

"Dumbledore's gone." Canada said quietly.

England sat up fast, making himself dizzy, "What do you mean he's gone? He just got up and left?"

"No, he was told by the governors to step aside, and they want to take Hagrid to Azkaban!" Canada explained.

"The governors told him to step aside? Those wankers! Don't they see how much danger the students are in!" England ranted.

"Anything else?" America asked.

"Da, I have question to ask." A Russian voice came from behind.

"Wh- Where'd you come from?" America asked in surprise.

"Classroom, da?" Russia answered smiling.

"Classroom?" The others asked.

"Da."

***FLASHBACK***

"How would you like having a Job here at Hogwarts?" Dumbledore asked the mysterious Russian, who had helped them with the four injured students.

"It may be depending on what is the pay." Russia said in a cute innocent voice.

"For your salary?" Dumbledore asked.

"Vodka. Vodka, will be my payment, da?" Russia asked smiling.

"You want to be paid with Alcohol?" McGonagall asked, surprised, and disbelieving.

"Do not be worrying, it is only Russian Water." Russia smiled.

Dumbledore chuckled, "Alright. Will You become the defense against the dark arts, teachers aid?"

"I will teach. For now. I like to see the looks on the kids' faces while they are learning things." Russia said

innocently, smiling.

Russia then left the room, to where Dumbledore had assigned him a living quarter; it was near the Library, across the hall, and to the left. Russia put a sunflower in the vase, and then he left to help teach.

"And this, class, is my new class room helper, Ivan Braginski." Lockhart announced to his third years, once Russia entered the room.

"I Am Ivan Braginski, I come from Mother Russia." Russia said innocently, accidently scarring a few students, with his unintentional Aura.

"A marvellous sense of humor, not as great as my own of course, but a close second." Lockhart laughed.

"Today we will be studying about werewolves, so pull out Wanderings with werewolves, If you have read ahead you may have noticed, in chapter twelve I state that my ideal Birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic people." Lockhart continued.

"My ideal gift is having Vodka, and being with the sunflowers, da?" Russia smiled, watching.

A few, very few laughed, others shrunk because of Russia's unintentional, creepy aura.

"Can someone explain what my book is about?" Lockhart asked the class, not commenting on Ivan's comment, no one raised their hand; "No one? Really? Oh, you really should read more then. The book is mainly about how I was saving a village from werewolves."

Russia just smiled, causing some students to shrink in their chairs.

"I have question for the class." Russia announced.

"And what is it, chap?" Lockhart asked, still holding his Wanderings With Werewolves book.

"You will all become one with Mother Russia, Da?"

***End Flashback*  
**

"It was fun to teach them." Russia said, pulling out Vodka, "And they agreed to pay me Russian water." Russia smiled.

"I also had fun, I interact with students." Russia smiled a bit bigger.

***FLASHBACK***

"This is nice room, da." Russia announced, looking around the Slytherin Common room.

"How did you get in here, are you a muggle?" A boy named Malfoy asked/sneered, refering to the cloths Russia was wearing.

"I Do not understand the term 'Muggle'. And the wall let me in, da." Russia said, smiling and pointing at the wall, which was the entrance to the Slytherin room.

"How did you get the password then?" Malfoy sneered again.

"I do not know entrance, but entrance knew me." Russia smiled.

"…What?"

***End Flashback***

"England, you still owe me Vodka." Russia noticed, after he finished his Vodka he had got from teaching. (Nice payment, Vodkaaaa~!)

"Err… sorry, I've got it in here." England said, standing up and going to an old looking chess.

"Good?" England asked, handing the Vodka to Russia.

"Da. Thank you." Russia said drinking his Russian water.

_**Just a really, really short chapter, sorry.**_

_**Hope you like it, but it is mainly a little 'Extra'.**_

_**: )**_


	29. Chapter 29 Healed, and Back in Buisness

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR HETALIA.

**A/N Malfoy should really chose his words more carefully.**

Harry's POV

Summer was creeping over the grounds around the castle; sky and lake alike turned periwinkle blue and flowers large as cabbages burst into bloom in the greenhouses. But with no Hagrid visible from the castle windows, striding the grounds with Fang at his heels, the scene didn't look right to Harry; no better, in fact, than the inside of the castle, where things were so horribly wrong. Harry and Ron had tried to visit Hermione, but visitors were now barred from the hospital wing.

"We're taking no more chances," Madam Pomfrey told them severely through a crack in the infirmary door. "No, I'm sorry, there's every chance the attacker might come back to finish these people off..."

With Dumbledore gone, fear had spread as never before, so that the sun warming the castle walls out-side seemed to stop at the mullioned windows. There was barely a face to be seen in the school that didn't look worried and tense, and any laughter that rang through the corridors sounded shrill and unnatural and was quickly stifled. In good news, Matthew could walk again, And Alfred, Matthew, Arthur and Francis could all go back to classes. Arthur seemed angry that Dumbledore left.

Harry constantly repeated Dumbledore's final words to himself

"I will only truly have left this school when none here are loyal to me... Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."

But what good were these words? Who exactly where they supposed to ask for help, when everyone was just as confused and scared as they were? Hagrid's hint about the spiders was far easier to understand the trouble was, there didn't seem to be a single spider left in the castle to follow. Harry looked everywhere he went, helped (rather reluctantly) by Ron.

They were hampered, of course, by the fact that they weren't allowed to wander off on their own but had to move around the castle in a pack with the other Gryffindors. Most of their fellow students seemed glad that they were being shepherded from class to class by teachers, but Harry found it very irksome.

One person, however, seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the atmosphere of terror and suspicion. Draco Malfoy was strutting around the school as though he had just been appointed Head Boy. Harry didn't realize what he was so pleased about until the Potions lesson about two weeks after Dumbledore and Hagrid had left, when, sitting right behind Malfoy; Harry overheard him gloating to Crabbe and Goyle.

"I always thought Father might be the one who got rid of Dumbledore," he said, not troubling to keep his voice down. "I told you he thinks Dumbledore's the worst headmaster the schools ever had. Maybe we'll get a decent headmaster now. Someone who won't want the Chamber of Secrets closed. McGonagall won't last long; she's only filling in..." Snape swept past Harry, making no comment about Hermione's empty seat and cauldron.

"Sir," said Malfoy loudly. "Sir, why don't you apply for the headmaster's job?"

"Now, now, Malfoy," said Snape, though he couldn't suppress a thin lipped smile. "Professor Dumbledore has only been suspended by the governors. I daresay he'll be back with us soon enough."

"Yeah, right," said Malfoy, smirking. "I expect you'd have Father's vote, sir, if you wanted to apply for the job-I'll tell Father you're the best teacher here, sir-"

Snape smirked as he swept off around the dungeon, fortunately not spotting Seamus Finnigan, who was pretending to vomit into his cauldron.

"I'm quite surprised the Mudbloods haven't all packed their bags by now," Malfoy went on. "Bet you five Galleons the next one dies. Pity it wasn't Granger-" The bell rang at that moment, which was lucky; at Malfoy's last words, Ron had leapt off his stool, and in the scramble to collect bags and books, his attempts to reach Malfoy went unnoticed.

"Let me at him," Ron growled as Harry and Dean hung onto his arms. "I don't care, I don't need my wand, I'm going to kill him with my bare hands-"

"Bloody Hell! What was that for? MY FATHER WILL HEAR ABOUT THIS!" Draco shouted, now clutching his Head, he was lying on the floor.

Ron, Dean and Harry all looked over to Draco, and then the figure next to him.

It seems Alfred had had the same reaction as Ron, because he had gotten grabbed his books and left his desk, casually walked up to Draco, and Sent on punch straight to his head. (Not Full force, but it sure seemed like it.)

Ron couldn't help it. He laughed.

"That's 20 points from Gryffindor." Snape said walking by Alfred and Performing a spell to help Draco. "And detention."

Alfred just shrugged and walked towards the door.

"Hurry up, I've got to take you all to Herbology, " barked Snape over the class's heads, and off they marched, with Harry, Ron, and Dean bringing up the rear, Ron still Laughing. It was only safe to let go of him when Snape had seen them out of the castle and they were making their way across the vegetable patch toward the greenhouses. The Herbology class was very subdued; there were now two missing from their number, Justin and Hermione.

Professor Sprout set them all to work pruning the Abyssinian Shrivelfigs. Harry went to tip an armful of withered stalks onto the compost heap and found himself face-to-face with Ernie Macmillan.

Ernie took a deep breath and said, very formally, "I just want to say, Harry, that I'm sorry I ever suspected you. I know you'd never attack Hermione Granger, and I apologize for all the stuff I said. We're all in the same boat now and, well-"

He held out a pudgy hand, and Harry shook it. Ernie and his friend Hannah came to work at the same Shrivelfig as Harry and Ron.

"That Draco Malfoy character," said Ernie, breaking off dead twigs, "he seems very pleased about all this, doesn't he? D'you know, I think he might be Slytherin's heir."

"That's clever of you," said Ron, who didn't seem to have forgiven Ernie as readily as Harry.

"Do you think it's Malfoy, Harry?" Ernie asked.

"No," said Harry, so firmly that Ernie and Hannah stared.

"What about Arthur?" Ernie asked.

It was now Harry and Ron's turn to stare.

"You notice how he's a Slytherin, and he has a hate the WORD Mudblood or when people talk trash about Muggles?" Ernie began, "He was at the scene of the crime, before you, when the cat was petrified, I overheard Malfoy the other day, talking to Crab and Goyle, about how as soon as they said they suspected him, he went out and got attacked. It's too much of a coincidence; he must have ordered it to attack him or something."

"Blimey, that is a coincidence; But Arthur's our friend," Ron began, "Possibly the only Slytherin who Harry, Hermione, and I will ever trust."

Alfred overheard Ron as he walked by, and joined the conversation; "Whacha talkin' bout?"

"Who the heir of Slytherin is." Ernie replied, in a whisper.

"Really?" Alfred then looked like he was thinking, and took out a Soda.

"Do you think it's Arthur?" Ernie asked, not aware at how close the two were.

Alfred did a spit take right toward Ernie. "What? Dude! Iggy's not like that! How could you even think!"

Ernie looked at his robes, that were now drenched in soda.

"Er… sorry about that." Alfred laughed nervously.

"It's alright." Ernie sighed, and Matthew walked over.

"Alfred?" Matthew asked curiously, looking from Ernie to Alfred, thinking he had dumped it on him or something because of how much there was.

"Hey, Matthew?" Ernie asked, not realizing the question was the reason he was drenched in soda, "Do you think the Heir of Slytherin is Arthur?"

Canadian Rage. It isn't pretty.

"EH? What! How could you even think that? Arthur would never do that to his own people!" Matthew said, Fire in his eyes… it was scary.

"His people?" Ron asked, but shivered when Matthew looked at him.

"Yes, his fellow students." The fire had left his eyes, and he was a bit calmer now.

A second later, Harry spotted something. Several large spiders were scuttling over the ground on the other side of the glass, moving in an un-naturally straight line as though taking the shortest route to a prearranged meeting.

Harry hit Ron over the hand with his pruning shears. "Ouch! What're you-"

Harry pointed out the spiders, following their progress with his eyes screwed up against the sun.

"Oh, yeah," said Ron, trying, and failing, to look pleased. "But we can't follow them now-"

Ernie and Hannah were listening curiously, so was Alfred and Matthew, well Matthew seemed to by still angry at Ernie, which was one scary thing to see.

Harry's eyes narrowed as he focused on the spiders. If they pursued their fixed course, there could be no doubt about where they would end up.

"Looks like they're heading for the Forbidden Forest... "

And Ron looked even unhappier about that. At the end of the lesson Professor Sprout escorted the class to their Defense against the Dark Arts lesson. Harry and Ron lagged behind the others so they could talk out of earshot. "We'll have to use the Invisibility Cloak again," Harry told Ron. "We can take Fang with us. He's used to going into the forest with Hagrid, he might be some help."

"Right," said Ron, who was twirling his wand nervously in his fingers. "Er-aren't there-aren't there supposed to be werewolves in the forest?" he added as they took their usual places at the back of Lockhart's classroom, not noticing the Russian at the front of the class.

Preferring not to answer that question, Harry said, "There are good things in there, too. The centaurs are all right, and the unicorns... "Ron had never been into the Forbidden Forest before. Harry had entered it only once and had hoped never to do so again.

Lockhart bounded into the room and the class stared at him. Every other teacher in the place was looking grimmer than usual, but Lockhart appeared nothing short of buoyant.

"Come now," he cried, beaming around him. "Why all these long faces?"

People swapped exasperated looks, but nobody answered.

"Don't you people realize, " said Lockhart, speaking slowly, as though they were all a bit dim, "the danger has passed! The culprit has been taken away-"

"Says who?" said Dean Thomas loudly. "My dear young man, the Minister of Magic wouldn't have taken Hagrid if he hadn't been one hundred percent sure that he was guilty," said Lockhart, in the tone of someone explaining that one and one made two.

"Oh, yes he would," said Ron, even more loudly than Dean.

"I flatter myself I know a touch more about Hagrid's arrest than you do, Mr. Weasley," said Lockhart

In a self-satisfied tone. Ron started to say that he didn't think so, somehow, but stopped in mid-sentence when Harry kicked him hard under the desk.

"We weren't there, remember?" Harry muttered. But Lockhart's disgusting cheeriness, his hints that he had always thought Hagrid was no good, his confidence that the whole business was now at an end, irritated Harry so much that he yearned to throw Gadding with Ghouls right in Lockhart's stupid face. Instead he contented himself with scrawling a note to Ron: Let's do it tonight. Ron read the message, swallowed hard, and looked sideways at the empty seat usually filled by Hermione. The sight seemed to stiffen his resolve, and he nodded.

"I have the question for the second year class." Ivan said, innocently.

Alfred seemed to sigh, loudly.

Harry was just wondering, 'Wasn't that the guy who helped Arthur and the others?'

"Is it the same question you asked the first years, third year, fourth years, fifth years, sixth years and seventh years?" Lockhart asked laughing, thinking it was a joke.

"Da."

"Go ahead."

Ivan went to the front of the class, and looked at all the students, "You will become one with mother Russia, da?"

"Dude, I already said before, no." The American told the teacher.

Wait. He knew the teacher? Harry and Ron thought.

"No worries, because once in the future, all will become one." The Russian said.

"I don't think so." The American responded quietly, but the Russian heard him.

"Kolkolkol…" The room seemed very creepy.

Alfred didn't seem to read the atmosphere, or ignored it.

Class was soon over.

Alfred now had detention; Harry and Ron were following the spiders.

(Canada's POV)

Canada was in the Hufflepuff common room, wondering, what Dumbledore and Hagrid had meant the other day, He also wondered if he should tell Arthur. Arthur seemed to be mad at Dumbledore again, so it wouldn't be the best.

'Follow the spiders…' Matthew began wondering, and then remembered that Harry and Ron had both heard what he had heard. And that in Herbology they saw spiders going to the forbidden forest, and those two were pretty reckless. If you put two and two together… Harry and Ron where going to the forbidden forest to follow the spiders.

Matthew sighed, and picked up his bear. He didn't have a wand, none of them did at the moment, they had to be sent new ones, so Matthews weapon, was a dagger. (And again, he really didn't want to use it.)

Matthew headed out the door, and castle easily, no one noticed him, not Even Snape.

Hopefully, Ron and Harry hadn't gotten themselves into too much trouble yet.

**A longer chapter, Yay~! This story is about 79% Done. **

**Oh and there has been some people asking me how far this will go, for sure it will go to The order of the phoenix, possibly the Half-blood prince. And I might go to the deathly hallows. Might. It depends.**


	30. Chapter 30 Canada to the Rescue!

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR HETALIA.

Currently watching~ Harry potter and the chamber of secrets.

**On to the story!**

Canada walked towards the entrance/exit, where Filch was currently sweeping. Canada casually walked over towards the door and opened it; Filch jumped and dropped his broom, turning around to see the moving door.

"Peeves?" Filch shouted.

Canada walked out of the Castle, after scaring filch, and went towards Hagrid's Hut, maybe he could stop them before they went in the forest.

It was pretty dark out but Canada found the hut easily, he looked through the window, and noticed Fang was missing.

"They must have taken him with them." Canada said to himself, looking at the paw prints on the wooden steps. "Looks like I'm going in."

Canada sighed. From what England had told him and America, there was supposed to be monsters and unicorns in the forest.

Canada looked around the hut, looking for clues, and he found the spiders, all going in the same direction.

To the forbidden forest.

Canada didn't want to waste any more time so he held Kumacherrio tightly, and went into the forest entrance, it was dark and misty, and every step he took the leaves under his feet crunched, and the leaves in the trees rustled in the light breeze, there were HUGE trees, and Canada had to duck under one of the tree roots, just to continue on his path.

Canada heard some loud rustling and crunching on ahead, and he was starting to get worried, so of course, he walked faster.

Canada came around the tree, to see a really beat up Car; the sides of the car were scratched and smeared with mud. Apparently it had taken to trundling around the forest on its own.

Canada tried to open one of the doors, but it didn't open, so he took out his trusty dagger and tried to open the door that way. Which happened to work, Canada Hopped into the front seat, A car could be helpful, more helpful then a dagger. Kumajee sat on Canada's lap as Canada examined the car, the keys were already in. Canada put the Car in gear and Hit the gas.

**(Harry's POV.)**

Even as he reached for his wand, Harry knew it was no good, there were too many of them, but as he tried to stand, ready to die fighting, a loud, long note sounded, and a blaze of light flamed through the hollow. Mr. Weasley's car was thundering down the slope, headlights glaring, its horn screeching, knocking spiders aside; several were thrown onto their backs, their endless legs waving in the air. The car screeched to a halt in front of Harry and Ron and the doors flew open.

"Thought you would like a ride." Matthew smiled from the driver's seat.

"Get Fang!" Harry yelled, diving into the back seat; Ron seized the boarhound around the middle and threw him, yelping, into the back of the car, landing on Harry, and Ron hopped into the passenger seat he doors slammed shut.

Matthew smiled, and hit the gas once again.

"H-how did you know?" Harry gasped, relieved.

"I was in the Hut too, when Dumbledore and Hagrid were giving us the hints." Canada explained, making a sharp turn around a tree.

"You were there?" Harry asked, in disbelief.

Matthew slammed the brakes. Unintentionally of course, but that sort of surprised him.

"Yes. Yes I was." Matthew said, and then quickly hit the gas.

They sped up the slope, out of the hollow, and they were soon crashing through the forest, branches whipping the windows as Matthew drove the car wounding his way cleverly through the widest gaps, following a path he had most likely came. Harry looked over to Ron, Fang still on his lap.

His mouth was still open in the silent scream, but his eyes weren't popping anymore.

"Are you okay?" Ron stared straight ahead, unable to speak.

They smashed their way through the undergrowth, Fang howling loudly from on top of Harry, and Harry saw the side mirror snap off as they squeezed past a large oak. After ten noisy, rocky minutes, the trees thinned, and Harry could again see patches of sky.

The car stopped so suddenly that they were nearly thrown into the windshield.

"Hey, Matthew?" Harry asked wondering why he had suddenly stopped, but Matthew was curiously looking at the wheel.

They had reached the edge of the forest. Fang flung himself at the window in his anxiety to get out, and when Harry opened the door, Fang shot off through the trees to Hagrid's house, tail between his legs. Harry got out too, and after a minute or so, Ron seemed to regain the feeling in his limbs and followed, still stiff-necked and staring.

"Thanks, Matthew." Harry thanked.

Matthew gave a soft smile, "Eh, Your welcome," But then he had a more serious look on his face, "But you really shouldn't be outside, In the forbidden forest, when there's a monster on the loose."

Harry smiled sheepishly, "Sorry about that, thanks again."

Harry and Matthew got out of the car, and as soon as they did, the car reversed back into the forest and disappeared from view.

"You didn't stop it just now, did you?" Harry gave a small laugh, referring to when they had almost been thrown into the windshield.

"Eh… No that wasn't me." Matthew laughed.

Harry went back into Hagrid's cabin to get the Invisibility Cloak, Matthew waited outside. Fang was trembling under a blanket in his basket.

When Harry got outside again, he found Ron being violently sick in the pumpkin patch, Matthew was rubbing Ron's back in a circular motion to help him feel better.

"Follow the spiders," said Ron weakly, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. "I'll never forgive Hagrid. We're lucky to be alive."

"I bet he thought Aragon wouldn't hurt friends of his," said Harry.

"That's exactly Hagrid's problem!" said Ron, thumping the wall of the cabin. "He always thinks monsters aren't as bad as they're made out, and look where it's got him! A cell in Azkaban!" He was shivering uncontrollably now. "What was the point of sending us in there? What have we found out, I'd like to know."

"That Hagrid never opened the Chamber of Secrets," said Harry, throwing the cloak over Ron and prodding him in the arm to make him walk. "He was innocent."

Ron gave a loud snort.

"You suspected Hagrid?" Matthew asked in disbelief.

"Long story." Harry replied, referring to Tom's Diary.

"Of course he's innocent." Matthew said, to the now standing Ron.

Evidently, hatching Aragog in a cupboard wasn't Ron's idea of being innocent. As the castle loomed nearer Harry twitched the cloak to make sure their feet were hidden, Matthew just walked, and then pushed the creaking front doors ajar. They walked carefully back across the entrance hall and up the marble staircase, holding their breath as they passed corridors where watchful sentries were walking. Matthew went towards his Hufflepuff common room, walking right past Professor Snape, who didn't even notice.

At last they reached the safety of the Gryffindor common room, where the fire had burned itself into glowing ash. They took off the cloak and climbed the winding stair to their dormitory. Ron fell onto his bed without bothering to get undressed. Harry, however, didn't feel very sleepy. He sat on the edge of his four-poster, thinking hard about everything Aragog had said. The creature that was lurking somewhere in the castle, he thought, sounded like a sort of monster Voldemort-even other monsters didn't want to name it. But he and Ron were no closer to finding out what it was, or how it petrified its victims.

Even Hagrid had never known what was in the Chamber of Secrets. Harry swung his legs up onto his bed and leaned back against his pillows, watching the moon glinting at him through the tower window. He couldn't see what else they could do. They had hit dead ends everywhere. Riddle had caught the wrong person, the Heir of Slytherin had got off, and no one could tell whether it was the same person, or a different one, who had opened the Chamber this time. There was nobody else to ask. Harry lay down, still thinking about what Aragog had said. He was becoming drowsy when what seemed like their very last hope occurred to him, and he suddenly sat bolt upright. "Ron," he hissed through the dark, "Ron-"

Ron woke with a yelp like Fang's, stared wildly around, and saw Harry. "Ron -that girl who died. Aragog said she was found in a bathroom," said Harry, ignoring Neville's snuffling snores from the corner, and Alfred's "Gimme more hamburger~." That he repeated two more times in his sleep.

"What if she never left the bathroom? What if she's still there?" Ron rubbed his eyes, frowning through the moonlight. And then he understood, too. "You don't think-not Moaning Myrtle?"

**I had to make Canada drive the car, I had to. **

**:D no injuries!**

**Hamburger street~! **


	31. Chapter 31 The True meaning of The Voice

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR HETALIA

82% Done.

I just spent half an hour trying to find a certain reviewer who had an Idea, and I still can't find them, I remember their idea but not penname D:

If I don't find it by time I finish this chapter, I'll have to put it in the next chapter…

Why can't I find it? D:

**On to the story.**

"All those times we were in that bathroom, and she was just three toilets away," said Ron bitterly at breakfast next day, "and we could've asked her, and now …"

"Hey Dudes~!" Alfred interrupted, joining them at the Gryffindor table, Hamburger in hand.

"How was Detention with Snape?" Harry asked.

"It was worth it." America shrugged, "Just had to clean Cauldrons, A fair price to pay for reve- I mean sharing Democracy with the world."

Ron smiled; the look on Malfoy's face when he was punched the other day was priceless.

"So what did you dudes do yesterday?" Alfred asked.

"We found some spiders, And we decided to follow them." Harry said casually.

"Where did they lead?" Alfred asked, curious.

"To a bigger spider." Ron answered, a bit pale just thinking about it.

Everyone in the hall then looked towards a Red-Crowned crow that flew towards the Staff table, right to Ivan, the Defence against the dark arts teacher.

It looked like a-.

"IVAN BRAGINSKI! WHAT THE HELL, ARU! YOU'VE BEEN GONE FOR HALF THE YEAR AND HAVEN'T CONTACTED ME, OR ANYONE ELSE! NATALIA IS ON A RAMPAGE LOOKING FOR YOU, SOFIA* HAS BEEN WORRIED SICK, ARU! AND-"A Chinese voice yelled loudly.

Ivan shivered visibly at the mention of 'Natalia'.

The voice then changed to a Korean sounding voice,

"HEY~! ANIKI~! WHACHA DOIN~?" The voice rang through the hall,

"IM YONG SOO! I'M USING A HOWLER, ARU!" The Chinese voice yelled.

"HOWLERS ORIGINATED IN KOREA, DA-ZE~!" The Korean sang Happily.

"What is with arr the yerring?" A Japanese voice asked, calmly.

"J-KIKU, ARU! CAN YOU PLEASE TAKE IM YONG SOO OUT?" The Chinese voice called.

"VHAT IS VITH ALL THE YELLING? CAN VE NOT HAVE A LUNCH BREAK AT A MEETING PEACEFULLY!" A German voice called… Louder than anyone else.

"I'M USING A HOWLER, COUNTINUE THE MEETING, AND LET ME FINISH, ARU!" The Chinese man called.

"PASTAAAA~!" An Italian called in the background.

"EVERYONE, GET OUT ARU!" The Chinese man shouted.

A door closed in the background and the Chinese man sighed.

"IVAN? YOU OWE US AN EXPLANATION! AND IF YOU SEE ARTHUR, ALFRED, FRANC-IS OR… OR… MATTHEW, YOU TELL THEM TO EXPLAIN THEMSELVES!" The Chinese voice yelled, "Zai Jian!"

Ivan had a small smile on his face the whole time, he then stood up and looked at the hall.

"Alfred, Arthur, Francis, Matthew?" He called, calmly. "Yao is wanting explanation, Da."

He then sat back down, like nothing happened.

Arthur could be seen at the Slytherin table, banging his head on it.

Alfred was laughing.

Matthew didn't say anything.

Francis was talking to a girl next to him.

'That was… Interesting?' Harry thought, wondering how they all knew each other, and about that 'Meeting'.

"So you knew all the people talking?" Ron asked, referring to the Howler.

"OF course dude." Alfred answered.

"Who were they?" Harry asked.

"Yao, Yong Soo, Kiku, Ludwig, and Feliciano." Alfred answered happily. "So anyways, How big?" Alfred asked Curious, Completely changing the subject.

"What?" Ron asked confused.

"The spider." Alfred said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"What spider?" Ron asked, very confused.

"The one we were talking about." Alfred explained laughing.

"Oh." Harry and Ron said in perfect union.

"How big was it?" Alfred asked again.

"Pretty big."

"Cool."

It had been hard enough trying to look for spiders. Escaping their teachers long enough to sneak into a girls' bathroom, the girls' bathroom, moreover, right next to the scene of the first attack, was going to be almost impossible. But something happened in their first lesson, Transfiguration, that drove the Chamber of Secrets out of their minds for the first time in weeks. Ten minutes into the class, Professor McGonagall told them that their exams would start on the first of June, one week from today.

"Exams?" howled Seamus Finnigan. "We're still getting exams?" There was a loud bang behind Harry as Neville Longbottom's wand slipped, vanishing one of the legs on his desk.

Professor McGonagall restored it with a wave of her own wand, and turned, frowning, to Seamus.

"The whole point of keeping the school open at this time is for you to receive your education," she said sternly. "The exams will therefore take place as usual, and I trust you are all studying hard."

Studying hard! It had never occurred to Harry that there would be exams with the castle in this state. There was a great deal of mutinous muttering around the room, which made Professor McGonagall scowl even more darkly.

"Professor Dumbledore's instructions were to keep the school running as normally as possible," she said. "And that, I need hardly point out, means finding out how much you have learned this year."

Harry looked down at the pair of white rabbits he was supposed to be turning into slippers. What had he learned so far this year? He couldn't seem to think of anything that would be useful in an exam. Ron looked as though he'd just been told he had to go and live in the Forbidden Forest.

"Can you imagine me taking exams with this?" he asked Harry, holding up his wand, which had just started whistling loudly.

"I still need my wand…" Alfred sighed.

"What happened to your wand?" Ron asked, curious.

"It broke."

"A bit more specific?"

"It snapped."

"Never mind." Ron sighed.

Three days before their first exam, Professor McGonagall made another announcement at breakfast. "I have good news," she said, and the Great Hall, instead of falling silent, erupted. "Dumbledore's coming back!" several people yelled joyfully.

"You've caught the Heir of Slytherin!" squealed a girl at the Ravenclaw table.

"Quidditch matches are back on!" roared Wood excitedly.

"HAMBURGERS WILL BE SERVED~!" Alfred said happily.

When the hubbub had subsided, Professor McGonagall said, "Professor Sprout has informed me that the Mandrakes are ready for cutting at last. Tonight, we will be able to revive those people who have been Petrified. I need hardly remind you all that one of them may well be able to tell us who, or what, attacked them. I am hopeful that this dreadful year will end with our catching the culprit.

"There was an explosion of cheering. Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and wasn't at all surprised to see that Draco Malfoy hadn't joined in, Arthur seemed pleased at the news of catching the culprit. Ron, however, was looking happier than he'd looked in days.

"It won't matter that we never asked Myrtle, then!" he said to Harry. "Hermione will probably have all the answers when they wake her up! Mind you, she'll go crazy when she finds out we've got exams in three days' time. She hasn't studied. It might be kinder to leave her where she is till they're over."

Just then, Ginny Weasley came over and sat down next to Ron. She looked tense and nervous, and Harry noticed that her hands were twisting in her lap.

"What's up?" said Ron, helping himself to more porridge. Ginny didn't say anything, but glanced up and down the Gryffindor table with a scared look on her face that reminded Harry of someone, though he couldn't think who.

"Spit it out," said Ron, watching her.

Harry suddenly realized who Ginny looked like. She was rocking backward and forward slightly in her chair, exactly like Dobby did when he was teetering on the edge of revealing forbidden information.

"I've got to tell you something," Ginny mumbled, carefully not looking at Harry.

"What is it?" said Harry. Ginny looked as though she couldn't find the right words.

"What?" said Ron.

Ginny opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Harry leaned forward and spoke quietly, so that only Ginny and Ron could hear him.

"Is it something about the Chamber of Secrets? Have you seen something? Someone acting oddly?"

Alfred seemed interested in this topic.

Ginny drew a deep breath and, at that precise moment, Percy Weasley appeared, looking tired and wan.

"If you've finished eating, I'll take that seat, Ginny. I'm starving; I've only just come off patrol duty."

Ginny jumped up as though her chair had just been electrified, gave Percy a fleeting, frightened look, and scampered away. Percy sat down and grabbed a mug from the center of the table.

"Percy!" said Ron angrily. "She was just about to tell us some-' thing important!" Halfway through a gulp of tea, Percy choked.

"What sort of thing?" he said, coughing. "I just asked her if she'd seen anything odd, and she started to say-"

"Oh-that-that's nothing to do with the Chamber of Secrets," said Percy at once.

"How do you know?" said Ron, his eyebrows raised. "Well, er, if you must know, Ginny, er, walked in on me the other day when I was-well, never mind-the point is, she spotted me doing something and I, um, I asked her not to mention it to anybody. I must say, I did think she'd keep her word. It's nothing, really, I'd just rather-"

Harry had never seen Percy look so uncomfortable.

"What were you doing, Percy?" said Ron, grinning. "Go on, tell us, we won't laugh."

Percy didn't smile back. "Pass me those rolls, Harry, I'm starving."

Harry knew the whole mystery might be solved tomorrow without their help, but he wasn't about to pass up a chance to speak to Myrtle if it turned up-and to his delight it did, midmorning, when they were being led to History of Magic by Gilderoy Lockhart… And Ivan. Lockhart, who had so often assured them that all danger had passed, only to be proved wrong right away, was now wholeheartedly convinced that it was hardly worth the trouble to see them safely down the corridors.

His hair wasn't as sleek as usual; it seemed he had been up most of the night, patrolling the fourth floor. "Mark my words," he said, ushering them around a corner. "The first words out of those poor Petrified people's mouths will be it was Hagrid. Frankly, I'm astounded Professor McGonagall thinks all these security measures are necessary."

"I agree, sir," said Harry, making Ron drop his books in surprise, And Alfred stop dead in his tracks to curiously glance at Harry's sudden change.

"Thank you, Harry, said Lockhart graciously while they waited for a long line of Hufflepuffs to pass. "I mean, we teachers have quite enough to be getting on with, without walking students to classes and standing guard all night..."

"That's right," said Ron, catching on. "Why don't you leave us here, sir, we've only got one more corridor to go-"

"You know, Weasley, I think I will," said Lockhart. "I really should go and prepare my next class-"And he hurried off, Ivan followed, annoyed at the fast pace muttering Kolkolkol.

"Prepare his class," Ron sneered after him. "Gone to curl his hair, more like."

They let the rest of the Gryffindors draw ahead of them, Alfred was still there.

"What are you doing Alfred?" Harry asked, innocently.

Alfred narrowed his eyes slightly. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing." Ron answered.

Alfred didn't look convinced, but around the corner came Arthur.

"AM- Alfred." He called.

Alfred turned around to see Arthur, "Hey Iggy, Feeling better?"

"Yes, Yes, we've got to go to tha-…" He trailed off, noticing Harry and Ron.

"Is Mattie and Francis there already?" Alfred asked.

"Yes." Arthur said, and the two quickly disappeared, down the corridor.

"And he thought we were being suspicious." Ron said, but Harry agreed, that was suspicious, where were they going that was so important?

Ron and Harry then darted down a side passage and hurried off toward Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. But just as they were congratulating each other on their brilliant scheme

"Potter! Weasley! What are you doing?" It was Professor McGonagall, and her mouth was the thinnest of thin lines.

"We were -we were-" Ron stammered. "We were going to-to go and see-"

"Hermione," said Harry. Ron and Professor McGonagall both looked at him. "We haven't seen her for ages, Professor," Harry went on hurriedly, treading on Ron's foot, "and we thought we'd sneak into the hospital wing, you know, and tell her the Mandrakes are nearly ready and, er, not to worry-"

Professor McGonagall was still staring at him, and for a moment, Harry thought she was going to explode, but when she spoke, it was in a strangely croaky voice.

"Of course," she said, and Harry, amazed, saw a tear glistening in her beady eye. "Of course, I realize this has all been hardest on the friends of those who have been... I quite understand. Yes, Potter, of course you may visit Miss Granger. I will inform Professor Binns where you've gone. Tell Madam Pomfrey I have given my permission."

Harry and Ron walked away, hardly daring to believe that they'd avoided detention. As they turned the corner, they distinctly heard Professor McGonagall blow her nose.

"That," said Ron fervently, "was the best story you've ever come up with."

They had no choice now but to go to the hospital wing and tell Madam Pomfrey that they had Professor McGonagall's permission to visit Hermione. Madam Pomfrey let them in, but reluctantly.

"There's just no point talking to a Petrified. Person," she said, and they had to admit she had a point when they'd taken their seats next to Hermione. It was plain that Hermione didn't have the faintest inkling that she had visitors, and that they might just as well tell her bedside cabinet not to worry for all the good it would do.

"Wonder if she did see the attacker, though?" said Ron, looking sadly at Hermione's rigid face. "Because if he sneaked up on them all, no one'll ever know..."

But Harry wasn't looking at Hermione's face. He was more interested in her right hand. It lay clenched on top of her blankets, and bending closer, he saw that a piece of paper was scrunched inside her fist. Making sure that Madam Pomfrey was nowhere near, he pointed this out to Ron.

"Pull it out," Ron whispered, shifting his chair so that he blocked Harry from Madam Pomfrey's view. It was no easy task. Hermione's hand was clamped so tightly around the paper that Harry was sure he was going to tear it. While Ron kept watch he tugged and twisted, and at last, after several tense minutes, the paper came free.

It was a page torn from a very old library book. Harry smoothed it out eagerly and Ron leaned close to read it, too.

'Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it.'

And beneath this, a single word had been written, in a hand Harry recognized as Hermione's.

Pipes.

It was as though somebody had just flicked a light on in his brain.

"Ron," he breathed. "This is it. This is the answer. The monster in the Chamber's a basilisk-a giant serpent! That why I've been hearing that voice all over the place, and nobody else has heard it. It's be-cause I understand Parseltongue... "

Harry looked up at the beds around him. "The basilisk kills people by looking at them. But no one'sdied-because no one looked it straight in the eye. Colin saw it through his camera. The basilisk burned up all the film inside it, but Colin just got Petrified. Justin... Justin must've seen the basilisk through Nearly Headless Nick! Nick got the full blast of it, but he couldn't die again... And Hermione and that Ravenclaw prefect were found with a mirror next to them. Hermione had just realized the monster was a basilisk. I bet you anything she warned the first person she met to look around corners with a mirror first! And that girl pulled out her mirror-and-"

Ron's jaw had dropped. "And Mrs. Norris?" he whispered eagerly. Harry thought hard, picturing the scene on the night of Halloween.

"The water..." he said slowly. "The flood from Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. I bet you Mrs. Norris only saw the reflection..."

He scanned the page in his hand eagerly. The more he looked at it, the more it made sense.

"... The crowing of the rooster... Is fatal to it!" he read aloud. "Hagrid's roosters were killed! The Heir of Slytherin didn't want one anywhere near the castle once the Chamber was opened! Spiders flee before it! It all fits!"

"But how's the basilisk been getting around the place?" said Ron. "A giant snake... Someone would've seen... "Harry, however, pointed at the word Hermione had scribbled at the foot of the page.

"Pipes, " he said. "Pipes... Ron, it's been using the plumbing. I've been hearing that voice inside the walls... "

Ron suddenly grabbed Harry's arm.

"The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets!" he said hoarsely. "What if it's a bathroom? What if it's in-"

"Moaning Myrtle's bathroom," said Harry. They sat there, excitement coursing through them, hardly able to believe it.

"This means," Said Harry, "I can't be the only Parselmouth in the school. The Heir of Slytherin's one, too. That's how he's been controlling the basilisk."

Ron interrupted, quite worried. "Didn't Arthur say He heard the voices as well? Does that mean, Arthurs the Heir of Slytherin?"

Harry didn't say anything, it would make sense… Maybe that's why he hates those words so much, and can see Flying Mint bunny, and Is a Parseltongue, which is very rare… It all added up. But, he was their friend… Or maybe he was just pretending to be, so they weren't suspicious, Right after Malfoy accused him, he had gone and got attacked.

"What're we going to do?" said Ron, whose eyes were flashing.

"Should we go straight to McGonagall?"

"Let's go to the staff room," said Harry, jumping up. "She'll be there in ten minutes. It's nearly break."

*Himaruya listed Irunya Chernenko, Maria, and Sofia as potential names for Ukraine, so I just used Sofia.

Also, I need to know, who reviewed saying China should send a howler asking where they all where? I need to know! D: I'm sorry I couldn't find your review, so if you were the one who suggested that, please tell me PM or review again, so I can credit you~!

…

My own thoughts on this chapter~ Shit just got serious.

^^Had to be said.

Also… Random thought: Hufflepuffs motto should be: "Honey Badger don't care."

Kesesesesese.


	32. Chapter 32 Russia gets Involved

(Harry's POV)

They ran downstairs. Not wanting to be discovered hanging around in another corridor, they went straight into the deserted staff room. It was a large, paneled room full of dark, wooden chairs. Harry and Ron paced around it, too excited to sit down. But the bell to signal break never came. Instead, echoing through the corridors came Professor McGonagall's voice, magically magnified.

"All students to return to their House dormitories at once. All teachers return to the staff room. Immediately, please."

Harry wheeled around to stare at Ron. "Not another attack? Not now?"

"What'll we do?" said Ron, aghast. "Go back to the dormitory?"

"No," said Harry, glancing around. There was an ugly sort of wardrobe to his left, full of the teachers' cloaks. "In here. Let's hear what it's all about. Then we can tell them what we've found out. "

They hid themselves inside it, listening to the rumbling of hundreds of people moving overhead, and the staff room door banging open. From between the musty folds of the cloaks, they watched theteachers filtering into the room. Some of them were looking puzzled, others downright scared. ThenProfessor McGonagall arrived.

"It has happened," she told the silent staff room. "A student has been taken by the monster. Right into the Chamber itself." Professor Flitwick let out a squeal. Professor Sprout clapped her hands over her mouth.

Snape gripped the back of a chair very hard and said, "How can you be sure?"

"The Heir of Slytherin," said Professor McGonagall, who was very white, "left another message. Right underneath the first one. Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever."

Professor Flitwick burst into tears.

"Who is it?" said Madam Hooch, who had sunk, weak-kneed, into a chair. "Which student?"

"Ginny Weasley," said Professor McGonagall. Harry felt Ron slide silently down onto the wardrobe floor beside him.

"We shall have to send all the students home tomorrow," said Professor McGonagall. "This is the end of Hogwarts. Dumbledore always said..."

The staff-room door banged open again. For one wild moment, Harry was sure it would be Dumbledore. But it was Lockhart, and he was beaming. "So sorry-dozed off-what have I missed?"

He didn't seem to notice that the other teachers were looking at him with something remarkably like hatred, Ivan came in shortly after.

Snape stepped forward. "Just the man," he said. "The very man. A girl has been snatched by the monster, Lockhart. Taken into the Chamber of Secrets itself. Your moment has come at last."

Lockhart blanched. "That's right, Gilderoy," chipped in Professor Sprout. "Weren't you saying just last night that you've known all along where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is?"

"I-well, I -"sputtered Lockhart.

"Yes, didn't you tell me you were sure you knew what was inside it?" piped up Professor Flitwick.

"D-did I? I don't recall-"

"I certainly remember you saying you were sorry you hadn't had a crack at the monster before Hagrid was arrested," said Snape. "Didn't you say that the whole affair had been bungled, and that you should have been given a free rein from the first?"

Lockhart stared around at his stony-faced colleagues. "I-I really never-you may have misunderstood-"

"We'll leave it to you, then, Gilderoy," said Professor McGonagall. "Tonight will be an excellent time to do it. We'll make sure everyone's out of your way. You'll be able to tackle the monster all by yourself. A free rein at last."

Lockhart gazed desperately around him, but nobody came to the rescue. He didn't look remotely handsome anymore. His lip was trembling, and in the absence of his usually toothy grin, he looked weak-chinned and feeble.

"V-very well, " he said. "I'll-I'll be in my office, getting-getting ready. "

"I want to see chamber, maybe snake will become one, da?" Russia added, following Lockhart as he left the room, and Lockhart gladly accepted the help.

"Right," said Professor McGonagall, whose nostrils were flared, "that's got him out from under our feet. The Heads of Houses should go and inform their students what has happened. Tell them the Hogwarts Express will take them home first thing tomorrow. Will the rest of you please make sure no students have been left outside their dormitories."

The teachers rose and left, one by one.

(FACE POV)

"Alright, Let's talk strategies." England suggested.

"We all have no wand." France pointed out.

England gave a pirate smirk, who needs a wand?

Everyone else looked at him, as if he were crazy.

"I mean, we've all fought without one before, haven't we?" England pointed out.

"Where can I get a pistol then?" America asked.

"I will need a sw-…" France began but immediately changed his mind, "I will need a Fleuret."

"A bow and arrows would be best for me." Canada put in quietly.

"And I have my book for Magic." England added.

"so… where can we get these weapons?" France asked, "We are running out of time."

"We are in the room of requirement." England said simply, walking over to a small treasure chest in the corner of the room/

"How will we get past the teachers?" Canada asked, curious.

"Bedazzling Hex." England answered, opening the treasure chest, and taking out some iteams.

"What?" America asked, confused.

"It can be used to conceal a person or an object." England recited, as he began to walk back, handing a Fleuret to France, Bow and Arrows to Canada, and A pistol to America, England took out his smaller magic book and held it tightly.

"What are we facing, Slytherin's or Hufflepuffs?" France asked.

"Hufflepuffs." Canada said quietly, "I found it the other night when I got bac-." Canada quickly stopped himself from saying anything else.

"Got back from where?" America almost shouted, worried.

"Er…?" Canada tried to think of something, not wanting anyone to worry.

"We can talk about that later, we mustn't waste any more time." England said, sighing.

"Okay, Canada, Dude? Where is it?" America asked.

"Near the Hufflepuff entrance, you just need to go to the barrel on the opposite side, three barrels to the left, and Knock." Canada answered.

England examined the other three nations for a brief moment.

"You've all gotten-." He began but was interrupted by the nations all growing.

"Taller." England sighed.

"HAHAHA~!" America laughed.

England quickly drew the circle on the ground and told the nations to stand in it.

"What about you, Iggy?" America asked.

"Er… I already redid the spell." England answered sheepishly.

"you grew in front of someone didn't you?" France asked raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing important, they thought it was a dream!" England said quickly, and then recited the spell; After which stood three 12 year olds.

"Now, we make ourselves invisible." England said walking over to the others, and placing the Bedazzling Hex on them, and himself.

"Hey… Where are you guys?" They almost all asked at the same time.

"OUCH! That was my foot you git!" England yelled.

"Didn't see."

"Dude? What are we fighting, and how long will this spell stay?" America asked, Bumping into Canada.

"The spell should last until we get there, at least." England said.

"At least?"

England nodded, but no one could see.

"And we are fighting a Badger, A Monster Representing the Hufflepuff house." England explained, "Like how we were tested for our Bravery against the Lion, and Wit against the Raven, We can expect to be Tested on either our Loyalty, Patience, Dedication, Hard Work, or Fair play, Most likely Our Loyalty."

"How would you test Loyalty In a battle against a Badger?"

(Harry's POV)

It was probably the worst day of Harry's entire life. He, Ron, Fred, and George sat together in a corner of the Gryffindor common room, unable to say anything to each other.

Percy wasn't there. He had gone to send an owl to Mr. And Mrs. Weasley, then shut himself up in his dormitory.

Alfred wasn't there either, which was suspicious.

No afternoon ever lasted as long as that one, nor had Gryffindor Tower ever been so crowded, yet so quiet. Near sunset, Fred and George went up to bed, unable to sit there any longer.

"She knew something, Harry," said Ron, speaking for the first time since they had entered the wardrobe in the staff room. "That's why she was taken. It wasn't some stupid thing about Percy at all, She'd found out something about the Chamber of Secrets. That must be why she was-" Ron rubbed his eyes frantically. "I mean, she was a pureblood. There can't be any other reason."

Harry could see the sun sinking, blood-red, below the skyline. This was the worst he had ever felt. If only there was something they could do. Anything.

"Harry" said Ron. "D'you think there's any chance at all she's not-you know-"

Harry didn't know what to say. He couldn't see how Ginny could still be alive.

"D'you know what?" said Ron. "I think we should go and see Lockhart. Tell him what we know. He's going to try and get into the Chamber. We can tell him where we think it is, and tell him it's a basilisk in there."

Because Harry couldn't think of anything else to do, and because he wanted to be doing something, he agreed. The Gryffindors around them were so miserable, and felt so sorry for the Weasleys, that nobody tried to stop them as they got up, crossed the room, and left through the portrait hole.

Darkness was falling as they walked down to Lockhart's office. There seemed to be a lot of activity going on inside it. They could hear scraping, thumps, and hurried footsteps.

Harry knocked and there was a sudden silence from inside. Then the door opened the tiniest crack and they saw one of Lockhart's eyes peering through it.

"Oh-Mr. Potter-Mr. Weasley-" he said, opening the door a bit wider. "I'm rather busy at the moment-if you would be quick-"

"Professor, we've got some information for you," said Harry. "We think it'll help you."

"Er-well-it's not terribly-" The side of Lockhart's face that they could see looked very uncomfortable. "I mean-well all right-"

He opened the door and they entered. His office had been almost completely stripped. Two large trunks stood open on the floor. Robes, jade-green, lilac, midnight blue, had been hastily folded into one of them; books were jumbled untidily into the other. The photographs that had covered the walls were now crammed into boxes on the desk.

"Are you going somewhere?" said Harry.

"Er, well, yes," said Lockhart, ripping a life-size poster of himself from the back of the door as he spoke and starting to roll it up. "Urgent call-unavoidable-got to go-"

"He is only making up the excuses, he does not want to see the chamber, da?" A Russian voice came through the door, as Ivan came in, drinking Vodka.

"What about my sister?" said Ron jerkily.

"Well, as to that-most unfortunate-" said Lockhart, avoiding their eyes as he wrenched open a drawer and started emptying the contents into a bag. "No one regrets more than I-"

"You're the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!" said Harry. "You can't go now! Not with all the Dark stuff going on here!"

"Well-I must say-when I took the job-" Lockhart muttered, now piling socks on top of his robes. "nothing in the job description-didn't expect-"

"You mean you're running away?" said Harry disbelievingly. "After all that stuff you did in your books-"

"Books can be misleading," said Lockhart delicately.

"You wrote them!" Harry shouted.

"My dear boy," said Lockhart, straightening up and frowning at Harry. "Do use your common sense. My books wouldn't have sold half as well if people didn't think I'd done all those things. No one wants to read about some ugly old Armenian warlock, even if he did save a village from werewolves. He'd look dreadful on the front cover. No dress sense at all. And the witch who banished the Bandon Banshee had a harelip. I mean, come on-"

"So you've just been taking credit for what a load of other people have done?" said Harry incredulously.

"Kolkolkol. I do not appreciate being lied to, da." Ivan had a scary aura, which Lockhart didn't notice.

"Harry, Harry," said Lockhart, shaking his head impatiently, "it's not nearly as simple as that. There was work involved. I had to track these people down. Ask them exactly how they managed to do what they did. Then I had to put a Memory Charm on them so they wouldn't remember doing it. If there's one thing I pride myself on, it's my Memory Charms. No, it's been a lot of work, Harry. It's not all book signings and publicity photos, you know. You want fame, you have to be prepared for a long hard slog."

He banged the lids of his trunks shut and locked them. "Let's see," he said. "I think that's everything. Yes. Only one thing left."

He pulled out his wand and turned to them.

"Awfully sorry, boys, Ivan, but I'll have to put a Memory Charm on you now. Can't have you blabbing my secrets all over the place. I'd never sell another book-" Lockhart then casted the spell on Ivan, who just blinked in response.

"What was it that was supposed to be doing?" Ivan asked innocently.

Lockhart had a brief moment of hesitation, which was all Harry needed, He bellowed, "Expelliarmus!"

Lockhart was blasted backward, falling over his trunk; his wand flew high into the air; Ron caught it, and flung it out of the open window. Ivan was chuckling.

"Shouldn't have let Professor Snape teach us that one," said Harry furiously, kicking Lockhart's trunk aside. Lockhart was looking up at him, feeble once more. Harry was still pointing his wand at him.

"What d'you want me to do?" said Lockhart weakly. "I don't know where the Chamber of Secrets is. There's nothing I can do."

"You're in luck," said Harry, forcing Lockhart to his feet at wand point. "We think we know where it is. And what's inside it. Let's go."

"I will be coming alone, da?" Ivan said, pipe in hand.

"Sure?" Ron asked, unsure to why he had a pipe, and how he had got one.

They marched Lockhart out of his office and down the nearest stairs, along the dark corridor where the messages shone on the wall, to the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. They sent Lockhart in first. Harry was pleased to see that he was shaking. Moaning Myrtle was sitting on the tank of the end toilet.

"Oh, it's you," she said when she saw Harry. "What do you want this time?"

"To ask you how you died," said Harry. Myrtle's whole aspect changed at once. She looked as though she had never been asked such a flattering question.

"Oooh, it was dreadful," she said with relish. "It happened right in here. I died in this very stall. I remember it so well. I'd hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. The door was locked, and I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in. They said something funny. A different language, I think it must have been. Anyway, what really got me was that it was a boy speaking. So I unlocked the door, to tell him to go and use his own toilet, and then-" Myrtle swelled importantly, her face shining.

"I died."

"How?" said Harry.

"No idea," said Myrtle in hushed tones. "I just remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes. My whole body sort of seized up, and then I was floating away..." She looked dreamily at Harry. "And then I came back again.

I was determined to haunt Olive Hornby, you see. Oh, she was sorry she'd ever laughed at my glasses."

"Where exactly did you see the eyes?" said Harry.

"Somewhere there," said Myrtle, pointing vaguely toward the sink in front of her toilet. Harry and Ron hurried over to it.

Lockhart was standing well back, a look of utter terror on his face. It looked like an ordinary sink. They examined every inch of it, inside and out, including the pipes below. Ivan was tapping it with his own Pipe.

And then Harry saw it: Scratched on the side of one of the copper taps was a tiny snake. "That tap's never worked," said Myrtle brightly as he tried to turn it.

"Harry, " said Ron. "Say something. Something in Parseltongue."

"But-" Harry thought hard. The only times he'd ever managed to speak Parseltongue were when he'd been faced with a real snake. He stared hard at the tiny engraving, trying to imagine it was real. "Open up," he said. He looked at Ron, who shook his head.

"English," he said.

"I can open it, da?" Ivan asked, earning a stare from the three wizards.

Ivan stood in front of it, Chanting Kolkolkol

, and he had a creepy aura surrounding him.

Immediately the entrance opened. the tap glowed with a brilliant white light and began to spin. Next second, the sink began to move; the sink, in fact, sank, right out of sight,

"W-where'd you learn to do that?" Ron asked, not sure to be impressed or scared.

Ivan shrugged, "I can do that to many secret entrances around here," Ivan chuckled, "It was fun to see the scared looks on everyone's faces when I went into Snake common room."

The looks on the three wizards faces was priceless.

Alright, the next too chapters happen at the same time~! Would you like to see Hufflepuffs fight, with America, England, France and Canada? Or Slytherins, with Russia and Harry?


	33. Chapter 33 Trust, Pride and Loyalty

HOLY ROMAN EMPIRE! I JUST NOTICED THERE ARE MORE THAN 30 CHAPTERS!

AND MORE THAN 70, 000 WORDS!

Le gasp! Continues

Hufflepuff first~!

I Will try to make this as good (hopefully better,) Then the Ravenclaw battle, but THAT was my personal best so far~, so let's see if I can beat it, sorry if I can't lol… But I will try~!

The invisible nations made their way out of the room of requirement, with some trouble; they kept bumping into each other, and made their way carefully to the Hufflepuff tower.

Canada went first to the barrel and knocked on it once, effectively opening it. The other Nations climbed through the hole, bumping into each other e few more times, and finally everyone was in, just in time aswell because the spell just came off.

"Alright let's go~!" America said, leading the way.

They walked through the barrel, which led to an old looking chamber, there was imprints in the wall.

"There's something here." England pointed out, pointing at the walls, it was a riddle, or poem?

'**Those who enter,**

**Pay no toll,**

**Those who leave,**

**Will not reach their goal,**

**Those who can prove,**

**Their Loyalty,**

**Need not move, **

**but they will not be treated like Royalty.'***

"What does that mean?" America asked, re-reading the Riddle, or Poem.

"If we enter, we don't pay a toll." England thought aloud.

"If we leave, we won't reach our goal." Canada joined.

"If we prove our loyalty, we won't even have to move, but we won't be treated well?" France finished.

"The only one that doesn't quite make sense is the last two lines." England thought, thinking.

"Maybe it's just silly writing on the wall." France said stepping forward, and… sinking… slightly?

Canada seemed to realize something.

"It's a trap!" Canada shouted, Tackling France to the ground, just in time for an arrow to shoot out of the wall, and get stuck in the other.

"Canada? Dude? That was pretty awesome, but how did you know that was going to happen?" America asked, confused.

"The Hufflepuff house has the least amount of intruders for a reason," Canada began, proudly, "In fact, no one besides a Hufflepuff has ever been in the Hufflepuff common room."

"But how did you know about the trap?" England asked.

"Hufflepuff's common room entrance is opened by a rhythm. As a security device to repel non-Hufflepuffs, tapping on the wrong barrel, or tapping the incorrect number of times, results in one of the other lids bursting off and drenching the imposter in vinegar." Canada recited, "If that's what Helga Hufflepuff did for the Common room, I'm positive Salazar Slytherin would have done something similar for the monster's Chamber."

"But more harsh?" France cleared up.

"So we just need to look out for the Badger and the Traps." England sighed, "Sounds easy, doesn't it?"

"Hahaha~! I'll keep an eye out for anything suspicious!" America said, Looking around the old chamber,

"We should stay in a group of two at least, and watch out for anything strange, or that looks out of place." England directed, and walked the opposite way Canada followed him around the right corner, which was cold and damp, Leaving America and France to explore the old, dusty, cold chamber to the left.

(France and America's POV)

France and America quietly tip toed around the dusty old chamber, careful not to set of any alarms or traps, but as soon as America heard a squeak, which happened to be a mouse, he immediately thought of a scary movie he had once watched with Japan.

"DUDE! AHH! OM MY GOD! WHY DID WE COME THIS WAY, WHY COULDN'T WE HAVE GONE THE STILL MYSTERIOUS BUT LESS CREEPY WAY, WHY DIDN'T I FOLLOW CANADIA AND ENGLAND? AHH! LOOK! FRANCE! I SWEAR THAT WALL JUST MOVED!" America ranted as they walked through the old chamber, Cobwebs were everywhere, it was cold and Rusty and smelt of rotting fish.

"Calm down America, the-… Did you just say the wall moved?" France asked, sweat dropping.

"YES, LOOK!" America shouted pointing at the wall, and hiding behind France.

The chamber's wall was slowly opening up, and it slowly revealed… A Honey Badger. It was green and the fur on its back was silver.

And it's eyes were…

(Canada and England's POV)

Canada and England walked through the chamber, it was cold and damp, and therefore it was pretty slippery.

'Thud.' Was the sound England made when he slipped; Canada carefully helped him back up. It was pretty easy for Canada not to slip in the chamber; maybe because it was ten times less slippery than a certain 'ice rink' he had recently been to.

"Do you think the others are alright?" Canada asked, worried.

"Of course," England said, but he sounded worried as well, Who wouldn't be after their last battle?

"Hey, England." A cold voice said, from what seemed like just behind them, so naturally England whipped around to see who was talking, again almost slipping.

"A-America?" England asked, America was right behind him, and was holding England at Gunpoint.

"America?" Canada asked, extremely worried now.

"What are you doing?" England demanded, as America glared at him.

America didn't say anything, the Gun was pointed right at England's face.

"Git, stop playing around! We've got work to do!" England said, angrily.

"I'm not playing around." America answered, calmly and coldly.

Canada looked between the two; "Where's France?" he asked quickly.  
America smirked, "Who cares?"

"Canada, you go check up on him." England said, glaring at America. Something was NOT right here.

Canada quickly went to check on France, Doing as England had asked.

"America. What the bloody hell is wrong with you?" England asked, raising an eyebrow as America smirked.

"It's not what's wrong with me, It's what's wrong with you."

(France and Canada's POV)

"France!" Canada called, quickly running over to France, who was walking calmly over.

"Who are you?" France asked, almost mockingly.

Canada raised an eyebrow at the tone in voice, "I'm Canada!"

"Who cares?" France said, teasingly again.

Okay, THAT was not right Canada thought angrily.

"Who would ever care?" France sneered.

Canadian Rage: It took everything Canada had to not punch France in the face.

France Brandished his Fleuret, and Canada jumped back in surprise.

"France? What's wrong?" Canada asked, frightened.

"Many things are wrong, wrong with the world, wrong with you," France began, a thoughtful look on his face, "That's why you're not my Territory anymore."

"EH? France, what are you talking aboot?" Canada asked worried, as France played with his Fleuret.

"Don't want you, Don't need you." France smirked, and pointed his sword, ready to lunge. "Useless."

"F-f-France?" Canada asked, close to tears, tightly holding a worried bear.

And Just as France lunged towards Canada, His Fleuret flew out of his hands.

France looked confused and angry.

Canada looked relieved, he quickly took out his arrow and aimed it at France, Of course he wouldn't shoot, this was to stop him from attacking.

(America's and England's POV)

America had his gun pointed at England's Head, England was glaring, and America was smirking.

"What's the matter, Old man?" America laughed, "To afraid?"

'Sorry France but…' England thought as he wordlessly thought 'Accio, Fleuret.'

The Fleuret Came flying over, knocking America's gun out of his hand, and the Fleuret landed right in England's hand.

America looked to where his gun flew, it was in a puddle.

England looked America in the eyes.

"What do you mean, wrong with me?" He asked carefully, looking at the American.

"You can't cook, you can't protect, You can't fight." America said, as if talking to a 3 year old.

England tried not to shout.

America made a move for his gun, but England quickly put the Fleuret in between the two, stepping in front of America once again.

"What's the weapon for?" America taunted, "Not like you'll use it."

"Excuse me?" England almost growled, what in merlin's name was wrong with America?

"Just like back then, Huh?" America said, almost thoughtful, and England realized what he was talking about. "You weren't strong enough then, why would you be now?"

(Canada and France's POV)

Canada pointed at France with the arrow, not going to fire, but to keep him from doing anything.

"Why, why are you acting like this France?" Canada asked a voice that was angry and upset.

"Go on, why don't you shoot?" France said, almost bored, "I got rid of you, why don't you do the same?"

"France! What is wrong with you! I could, I-I could never get rid of you!" Canada Shouted. Not whisper/shouted, Shouted.

"Why not?" France asked, "I gave you up when you were litt-."

"Your my big brother…Like my papa." Canada interrupted, whispering again. "You still cared for me, and visited, it's not like you threw me away."

France looked sad, but had a small smile, dropping all the mocking and teasing. Canada decided he was back to normal and dropped the arrows and bow.

"Canada, my Mathieu," France began to apologized, but was interrupted by Canada, who just ran forward and gave his big brother a great, big, hug.

"I am truly sorry for acting like that, Mathieu." France Apologized.

"Why where you like that anyway?" Canada asked, still worried.

"The Badger." France shrugged, "I'm sorry Canada."

3…

2…

1…

"ENGLAND! AMERICA?" They both shouted, realizing America and England were previously fighting and sprinted towards the others.

(England and America POV)

England angrily pointed the Fleuret at America.

"What?" America teased, "Still upset about it?"

"Upset?" England yelled, then calmed down, "No! I was at first, of course! But How could I not help but be proud at the same time…" The last part was barely audible, but America had caught it.

"Proud?" America asked, All teasing in his voice was gone, he blinked a few times.

"Of course I was proud! Who wouldn't be, to see their little brother Take on their top notch military _and _Win?" England said, and then sighed, "It makes me proud, to see how far you've come, and What you can really do."

America had watery eyes, smiling.

"It makes me proud," England continued, "T-."

He didn't even have to finish, America had pulled him into a bear hug.

"But, what WAS that all about?" England asked, still being crushed by the force of the hug.

"Hahaha… Sorry about that…" America said, sheepishly, "The Badger was doing that."

Both stopped the family bonding immediately.

"FRANCE AND CANADA!" They both shouted, running towards the others.

…

They made it half way before both groups crashed into each other.

"So… Did we beat the badger?" France asked, not remembering.

No one said a word.

…

Lots of notes on this chapter!

More family bonding~

*Hahaha~ My poems are getting better~! I think… Kind of… not really…

_**Those who can prove,**_

_**Their Loyalty,**_

_**Need not to move, **_

_**but they will not be treated like Royalty.**_

who can guess what this part of the poem means? It will be answered near the end of next chapter. If you get it correct, you are a smart cookie. :D (*Has one of those 'I know something you don't know' smiles*) It's not really Important, this part of the poem, but it DOES have meaning~.

Also, I don't think I'm the only one, but I don't think England would get sad on the war, if reflecting on it, I think he would be proud to see how far America has come. Do you agree or disagree?

But, it is a bad memory for England and America, the actual fighting part.

What did you think of the fight?

Also… Who caught the star wars reference this chapter?

Why do I feel sad? D:

WHY SO MANY QUESTIONS?

ALSO THE BADGER, If you were confused, This is it's abilities.

Like the Slytherin's Basilisk, it has to do with the eyes, If you look into the Badger's eyes you are put under an Imperius Curse, one of the three unforgivable curses, which Causes the victim of the curse to obey the spoken/unspoken commands of the caster.

Next chapter…

Russia and Harry Potter VS. Tom Riddle and Basilisk.

0


	34. 34 Good things come if you have patience

The Mysterious Russian, Strong American, Suspicious English man, Invisible Canadian, And The Flirt Master French man.

^^^Long enough title?

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR HETALIA!

Also Hehehe~!

**Special shout out to:**

**ScratchFox~!**

**who got the deep part of the poem right! **

I'm kind of surprised no one guessed the Humor part, but then again I only said "If you get it correct, you are a smart cookie. :D (*Has one of those 'I know something you don't know' smiles*) It's not really Important, this part of the poem, but it DOES have meaning~."

So that doesn't really tell you much.

**Also another Special shout out to~**

**Box of Tomato Fairy**

**Who gave an Idea for this Chapter~! **

**(The idea will be put at the bottom of the chapter, so no spoilers~)  
**

(Harry's POV)

Harry heard Ron gasp and looked up again. He had made up his mind what he was going to do.

"I'm going down there," he said.

He couldn't not go, not now they had found the entrance to the Chamber, not if there was even the faintest, slimmest, wildest chance that Ginny might be alive.

"Me too," said Ron. There was a pause.

"Well, you hardly seem to need me," said Lockhart, with a shadow of his old smile. "I'll just-"

He put his hand on the door knob, but Ron and Harry both pointed their wands at him. Ivan laughed.

"Kolkolkol…"

"You can go first," Ron snarled at Lockhart. White-faced and wandless, Lockhart approached the opening.

"Boys," he said, his voice feeble. "Boys, what good will it do?"

Harry jabbed him in the back with his wand. Lockhart slid his legs into the pipe.

"I really don't think-" he started to say, but Ron gave him a push, and he slid out of sight, Ivan was laughing at the look on Lockharts face.

Harry followed quickly. He lowered himself slowly into the pipe, then let go. It was like rushing down an endless, slimy, dark slide. He could see more pipes branching off in all directions, but none as large as theirs, which twisted and turned, sloping steeply downward, and he knew that he was falling deeper below the school than even the dungeons.

Behind him he could hear Ron, thudding slightly at the curves. Ivan's pipe was creating sparks when he slid down, And then, just as he had begun to worry about what would happen when he hit the ground, the pipe leveled out, and he shot out of the end with a wet thud, landing on the damp floor of a dark stone tunnel large enough to stand in.

Lockhart was getting to his feet a little ways away, covered in slime and white as a ghost. Harry stood aside as Ron came whizzing out of the pipe, too. Ivan came shortly after.

"We must be miles under the school," said Harry, his voice echoing in the black tunnel.

"Under the lake, probably," said Ron, squinting around at the dark, slimy walls.

All three of them turned to stare into the darkness ahead.

"Lumos!" Harry muttered to his wand and it lit again.

"C'mon," he said to Ron and Lockhart, and off they went, their footsteps slapping loudly on the wet floor. The tunnel was so dark that they could only see a little distance ahead. Their shadows on the wet walls looked monstrous in the wand light.

"Remember," Harry said quietly as they walked cautiously forward, "any sign of movement, close your eyes right away..."

But the tunnel was quiet as the grave, and the first unexpected sound they heard was a loud crunch as Ron stepped on what turned out to be a rat's skull. Harry lowered his wand to look at the floor and saw that it was littered with small animal bones. Trying very hard not to imagine what Ginny might look like if they found her, Harry led the way forward, around a dark bend in the tunnel.

"Harry-there's something up there-" said Ron hoarsely, grabbing Harry's shoulder. They froze, watching.

Harry could just see the outline of something huge and curved, lying right across the tunnel. It wasn't moving.

"Maybe it's asleep," he breathed, glancing back at the other two.

"I Will go check, da?" Ivan said walking forward with his pipe still in his hand.

Lockhart's hands were pressed over his eyes. Harry turned back to look at the thing, his heart beating so fast it hurt. Very slowly, his eyes as narrow as he could make them and still see, Harry edged forward, his wand held high. The light slid over a gigantic snake skin, of a vivid, poisonous green, lying curled and empty across the tunnel floor. The creature that had shed it must have been twenty feet long at least.

"Blimey," said Ron weakly.

Ivan was poking the skin that the snake shed with his pipe, and then wordlessly, continued forward, leaving the group.

There was a sudden movement behind them. Gilderoy Lockhart's knees had given way.

"Get up," said Ron sharply, pointing his wand at Lockhart.

Lockhart got to his feet-then he dived at Ron, knocking him to the ground. Harry jumped forward, but too late-Lockhart was straightening up, panting, Ron's wand in his hand and a gleaming smile back on his face.

"The adventure ends here, boys!" he said. "I shall take a bit of this skin back up to the school, tell them I was too late to save the girl, and that you two tragically lost your minds at the sight of her mangled body-say good-bye to your memories!"

He raised Ron's Spellotaped wand high over his head and yelled, "Obliviate!"

The wand exploded with the force of a small bomb. Harry flung his arms over his head and ran, slipping over the coils of snake skin, out of the way of great chunks of tunnel ceiling that were thundering to the floor.

Ivan looked behind him to see Harry in front of a wall of rocks.

"Ron!" he shouted. "Are you okay? Ron!"

"I'm here!" came Ron's muffled voice from behind the Rock fall. "I'm okay-this git's not, though—he got blasted by the wand-"

There was a dull thud and a loud "ow!" It sounded as though Ron had just kicked Lockhart in the shins, Ivan smiled at the noise.

"What now?" Ron's voice said, sounding desperate.

"We can't get through-it'll take ages..." Harry looked up at the tunnel ceiling.

Ivan wacked the wall with his pipe a few times and nothing happened he stopped.

He had never tried to break apart anything as large as these rocks by magic, and now didn't seem a good moment to try-what if the whole tunnel caved in?

There was another thud and another "ow!" from behind the rocks. They were wasting time. Ginny had already been in the Chamber of Secrets for hours... Harry knew there was only one thing to do.

"Wait there," he called to Ron. "Wait with Lockhart. Me and Professor. Braginski will go on... If I'm not back in an hour... "

There was a very pregnant pause

"Do not call me Braginski, call me Ivan, da?"

"I'll try and shift some of this rock," said Ron, who seemed to be trying to keep his voice steady. "So you can-can get back through. And, Harry-"

"See you in a bit," said Harry, trying to inject some confidence into his shaking voice.

Ivan patted Harry on the back, but accidently scared him.

Both set out away from the snake skin, Soon the distant noise of Ron straining to shift the rocks was gone. The tunnel turned and turned again. Every nerve in Harry's body was tingling unpleasantly.

He wanted the tunnel to end, yet dreaded what he'd find when it did. And then, at last, as he crept around yet another bend, he saw a solid wall ahead on which two entwined serpents were carved, their eyes set with great, glinting emeralds. Harry approached, his throat very dry. There was no need to pretend these stone snakes were real; their eyes looked strangely alive, Ivan looked at all of them with interest. He could guess what he had to do. He cleared his throat, and the emerald eyes seemed to flicker.

"Open," said Harry, in a low, faint hiss. The serpents parted as the wall cracked open, the halves slid smoothly out of sight, and Harry, shaking from head to foot, walked inside, Ivan who was smiling and unfazed walked inside aswell.

They were standing at the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber. Towering stone pillars entwined with more carved serpents rose to support a ceiling lost in darkness, casting long, black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place.

His heart beating very fast, Harry stood listening to the chill silence. Could the basilisk be lurking in a shadowy corner, behind a pillar? And where was Ginny? He pulled out his wand and moved forward between the serpentine columns. Every careful foot step echoed loudly off the shadowy walls. He kept his eyes narrowed, ready to clamp them shut at the smallest sign of movement. The hollow eye sockets of the stone snakes seemed to be following him. More than once, with a jolt of the stomach, he thought he saw one stir.

"Boo!" Ivan shouted from behind, and Harry nearly jumped out of his skin.

"W-what was that for?" Harry asked, nearly having a heart attack.

"You looked worried, so I made it better, da." Ivan answered.

Harry was going to say something along the lines of no, but immediately rethought the idea as Ivan's aura turned dark.

Then, as they drew level with the last pair of pillars, a statue high as the Chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall. Harry had to crane his neck to look up into the giant face above: It was ancient and monkey-like, with a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizard's sweeping stone robes, where two enormous gray feet stood on the smooth Chamber floor. And between the feet, face down, lay a small, black-robed figure with flaming-red hair.

"Ginny!" Harry muttered, sprinting to her and dropping to his knees. "Ginny-don't be dead—please don't be dead-" He flung his wand aside, grabbed Ginny's shoulders, and turned her over. Her face was white as marble, and as cold, yet her eyes were closed, so she wasn't Petrified. But then she must be-

"Ginny, please wake up, " Harry muttered desperately, shaking her.

Ivan walked over to see what had made Harry sprint, and saw it was a girl.

Ginny's head lolled hopelessly from side to side.

"She won't wake," said a soft voice. Harry jumped and spun around on his knees, Ivan just turned his head.

A tall, black-haired boy was leaning against the nearest pillar, watching. He was strangely blurred around the edges, as though Harry were looking at him through a misted window. But there was no mistaking him

"Tom-Tom Riddle?" Riddle nodded, not taking his eyes off Harry's face.

Russia was watching amused.

"What d'you mean, she won't wake?" Harry said desperately. "She's not-she's not -?"

"She's still alive," said Riddle. "But only just."

They stared at him. Tom Riddle had been at Hogwarts fifty years ago, yet here he stood, a weird, misty light shining about him, not a day older than sixteen.

"Are you a ghost?" Harry said uncertainly.

"A memory," said Riddle quietly. "Preserved in a diary for fifty years."

He pointed toward the floor near the statue's giant toes. Lying open there was the little black diary Harry had found in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. For a second, Harry wondered how it had got there-but there were more pressing matters to deal with.

Ivan was looking at the diary in distaste, Muttering Kolkolkol.

"You've got to help me, Tom," Harry said, raising Ginny's head again. "We've got to get her out of here. There's a basilisk... I don't know where it is, but it could be along any moment... Please, help me."

Riddle didn't move. Harry, sweating, managed to hoist Ginny half off the floor, and bent to pick up his wand again. But his wand had gone. Ivan was poking the Diary with his pipe, still muttering.

"Did you see -?" He looked up. Riddle was still watching him-twirling Harry's wand between his long fingers.

"Thanks," said Harry, stretching out his hand for it. A smile curled the corners of Riddle's mouth. He continued to stare at Harry, twirling the wand idly.

"Listen," said Harry urgently, his knees sagging with Ginny's dead weight. "We've got to go! If the basilisk comes-"

"It won't come until it is called," said Riddle calmly.

Harry lowered Ginny back onto the floor, unable to hold her up any longer. "What d'you mean?" he said.

"Look, give me my wand, I might need it-"Riddle's smile broadened.

"You won't be needing it," he said. Harry stared at him. "What d'you mean, I won't be -?"

"I've waited a long time for this, Harry Potter, " said Riddle. "For the chance to see you. To speak to you."

"Look, " said Harry, losing patience, "I don't think you get it. We're in the Chamber of Secrets. We can talk later-"

"We're going to talk now," said Riddle, still smiling broadly, and he pocketed Harry's wand.

Harry stared at him. There was something very funny going on here. "How did Ginny get like this?" he asked slowly.

"Well, that's an interesting question," said Riddle pleasantly. "And quite a long story. I suppose the real reason Ginny Weasley's like this is because she opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger."

"What are you talking about?" said Harry.

"The diary," said Riddle, Ivan stopped poking it to listen. "My diary. Little Ginny's been writing in it for months and months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes-how her brothers tease her, how she had to come to school with second hand robes and books, how" -Riddle's eyes glinted "how she didn't think famous, good, great Harry Potter would ever like her... "

All the time he spoke, Riddle's eyes never left Harry's face. There was an almost hungry look in them.

"It's very boring, having to listen to the silly little troubles of an eleven year-old girl," he went on. "But I was patient. I wrote back. I was sympathetic, I was kind. Ginny simply loved me. No one's ever under-stood me like you, Tom... I'm so glad I've got this diary to confide in... It's like having a friend I can carry around in my pocket... "Riddle laughed a high, cold laugh that didn't suit him. It made the hairs stand up on the back of Harry's neck.

"If I say it myself, Harry, I've always been able to charm the people I needed. So Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted... I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of her deepest fears, her darkest secrets. I grew powerful, far more powerful than little Miss Weasley. Powerful enough to start feeding Miss Weasley a few of my secrets, to start pouring a little of my soul back into her... "

"What d'you mean?" said Harry, whose mouth had gone very dry, Ivan was back to pocking the diary.

"Haven't you guessed yet, Harry Potter?" said Riddle softly. "Ginny Weasley opened the Chamber of Secrets. She strangled the school roosters and daubed threatening messages on the walls. She set the Serpent of Slytherin on four Mudbloods, and the Squib's cat.

"No," Harry whispered.

"Yes," said Riddle, calmly. "Of course, she didn't know what she was doing at first. It was very amusing. I wish you could have seen her new diary entries... Far more interesting, they became... Dear Tom,"

he recited, watching Harry's horrified face, `I think I'm losing my memory. There are rooster feathers all over my robes and I don't know how they got there. Dear Tom, l can't remember what I did on the night of Halloween, but a cat was attacked and I've got paint all down my front. Dear Tom, Percy keeps telling me I'm pale and I'm not myself. I think he suspects me... There was another attack today and I don't know where I was. Tom, what am I going to do? I think I'm going mad... I think I'm the one attacking everyone, Tom!"

Harry's fists were clenched, the nails digging deep into his Palms. "It took a very long time for stupid little Ginny to stop trusting her diary," said Riddle. "But she finally became suspicious and tried to dispose of it. And that's where you came in, Harry. You found it, and I couldn't have been more delighted. Of all the people who could have picked it up, it was you, the very person I was most anxious to meet... "

"And why did you want to meet me?" said Harry. Anger was coursing through him, and it was an effort to keep his voice steady. "Well, you see, Ginny told me all about you, Harry," said Riddle. "Your whole fascinating history." His eyes roved over the lightning scar on Harry's forehead, and their expression grew hungrier. "I knew I must find out more about you, talk to you, meet you if I could. So I decided to show you my famous capture of that great oaf, Hagrid, to gain your trust-"

"Hagrid's my friend," said Harry, his voice now shaking. "And you framed him, didn't you? I thought you made a mistake, but-"

Riddle laughed his high laugh again.

"It was my word against Hagrid's, Harry. Well, you can imagine how it looked-" Tom began but was interrupted by Ivan.

"This is very boring; I wish to fight now, da?" Ivan asked, holding his pipe.

Riddle glared, still looking at Harry; "You can figure out the rest there, but how is it that you a skinny boy with no extraordinary magical talent-managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did you escape with nothing but a scar, while Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed?"

There was an odd red gleam in his hungry eyes now. "Why do you care how I escaped?" said Harry slowly.

"Voldemort was after your time..."

"Voldemort," said Riddle softly, "is my past, present, and future, Harry Potter..."

He pulled Harry's wand from his pocket and began to trace it through the air, writing three shimmering words: TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE Then he waved the wand once, and the letters of his name rearranged themselves: I AM LORD VOLDEMORT.

"You see?" he whispered. "It was a name I was already using at Hogwarts, to my most intimate friends only, of course. You think I was going to use my filthy Muggle father's name forever? I, in whose veins runs the blood of Salazar Slytherin himself, through my mother's side? I, keep the name of a foul, common Muggle, who abandoned me even before I was born, just because he found out his wife was a witch? No, Harry-I fashioned myself a new name, a name I knew wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak, when I had become the greatest sorcerer in the world!"

Harry's brain seemed to have jammed. He stared numbly at Riddle.

"I am very bored, and now being ignored." Ivan said, and then began for the fifth time began chanting.

Fawkes then decided to fly in.

Harry then also noticed suddenly, Riddle's outline was becoming clearer, more solid... If it had to be a fight between him and Riddle, better sooner than later.

"No one knows why you lost your powers when you attacked me," said Harry abruptly. "I don't know myself But I know why you couldn't kill me. Because my mother died to save me. My common Muggle-born mother," he added, shaking with suppressed rage.

"She stopped you killing me. And I've seen the real you, I saw you last year. You're a wreck. You're barely alive. That's where all your power got you. You're in hiding. You're ugly, you're foul-"

Riddle's face contorted. Then he forced it into an awful smile. "So. Your mother died to save you. Yes, that's a powerful counter-charm. I can see now... There is nothing special about you, after all. I wondered, you see. There are strange likenesses between us, after all. Even you must have noticed. Both half-bloods, orphans, raised by Muggles. Probably the only two Parselmouth to come to Hogwarts since the great Slytherin himself.

Harry made sure not to say anything about Arthur there.

We even look something alike... But after all, it was merely a lucky chance that saved you from me. That's all I wanted to know. "

Harry stood, tense, waiting for Riddle to raise his wand. But Riddle's twisted smile was widening again. "Now, Harry, I'm going to teach you a little lesson. Let's match the powers of Lord Voldemort, Heir of Salazar Slytherin, against famous Harry Potter, some teacher assistant and the best weapons Dumbledore can give him... "

He cast an amused eye over Fawkes and the Sorting Hat, then walked away. Harry, fear spreading up his numb legs, watched Riddle stop between the high pillars and look up into the stone face of Slytherin, high above him in the half-darkness. Riddle opened his mouth wide and hissed-but Harry understood what he was saying...

"Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four."

Harry wheeled around to look up at the statue, Fawkes swaying on his shoulder. Slytherin's gigantic stone face was moving. Horror struck, Harry saw his mouth opening, wider and wider, to make a huge black hole. And something was stirring inside the statue's mouth. Something was slithering up from its depths. Harry backed away until he hit the dark Chamber wall, and as he shut his eyes tight.

"Finally, now we play, da?" Russia said.

Slytherin's mouth. Then he heard Riddle's hissing voice: "Kill him."

The basilisk was moving toward Harry; he could hear its heavy body slithering heavily across the dusty floor. Eyes still tightly shut, Harry began to run blindly sideways, his hands outstretched, feeling his way-Voldemort was laughing... Harry tripped.

He fell hard onto the stone and tasted blood the serpent was barely feet from him, he could hear it coming. There was a loud, explosive spitting sound right above him, and then something heavy hit Harry so hard that he was smashed into the wall. Waiting for fangs to sink through his body he heard more mad hissing, something thrashing wildly off the pillars. He couldn't help it-he opened his eyes wide enough to squint at what was going on.

The enormous serpent, bright, poisonous green, thick as an oak trunk, had raised itself high in the air and its great blunt head was weaving drunkenly between the pillars. As Harry trembled, ready to close his eyes if it turned, he saw what had distracted the snake. Fawkes was flying around it and Ivan… Was staring it dead straight in the eyes?

"You become one with mother Russia, Da?" Ivan calmly asked the snake.

Harry AND Tom were speechless.

The snake continued to thrash, staring at Ivan.

"It is not polite to stare, I will help you, Da?" Ivan said taking his pipe and attacking it's eyes.

"NO!" Riddle screamed. " THE BOY IS BEHIND YOU. YOU CAN STILL SMELL HIM. KILL HIM!"

The blinded serpent swayed, confused, still deadly. Fawkes was circling its head, piping his eerie song, jabbing here and there at its scaly nose as the blood poured from its ruined eyes, Ivan was hitting it and slashing at it violently with his pipe

The snake's tail whipped across the floor again. Harry ducked. Something soft hit his face. The basilisk had swept the Sorting Hat into Harry's arms. Harry seized it. It was all he had left, his only chance-he rammed it onto his head and threw himself flat onto the floor as the basilisk's tail swung over him again.

"Help me-help me-" Harry thought, his eyes screwed tight under the hat. "Please help me!" There was no answering voice. Instead, the hat contracted, as though an invisible hand was squeezing it very tightly. Something very hard and heavy thudded onto the top of Harry's head, almost knocking him out. Stars winking in front of his eyes, he grabbed the top of the hat to pull it off and felt something long and hard beneath it. A gleaming silver sword had appeared inside the hat, its handle glittering with rubies the size of eggs.

"KILL THE BOY! LEAVE THE BIRD, IGNORE THE FOOL! THE BOY IS BEHIND YOU. SNIFF-SMELL HIM. "

(RUSSIA'S POV)

Ivan left the Snake and charged at Tom, But the pipe went right threw him, he wasn't completely solid yet, Tom Laughed.

"FO-." Tom began but Ivan began slashing at him violently, even though it would not hurt him.

Tom laughed, "Why do you bother to try if you can't even get a shot?"

Russia just kept attacking, with his pipe, as soon as Tom was solid enough he would go Flying.

Tom however, just kept laughing, and Russia jumped back.

"Finally give up?" Tom laughed.

Russia dashed towards the Diary and ran into the chamber corridors, Tom wasn't too pleased.

Russia dashed into the corridors searching for Harry and the Basilisk, at least that way he could fight the Basilisk.

He ran around each turn without any luck, he was wondering If he had run past it or anything.

By time Russia came back into the main chamber, he was disappointed to see the Basilisk was already beaten.

Russia then had an Idea, He ran straight into the middle of their fight.

(Harry's POV)

"Hallo, again." He said smiling, (he's been smiling this whole time) And threw the diary towards Harry

For a split second, both Harry and Riddle, wand still raised, stared at it. Then, without thinking, with-out considering, as though he had meant to do it all along, Harry seized the basilisk fang on the floor next to him and plunged it straight into the heart of the book. There was a long, dreadful, piercing scream. Ink spurted out of the diary in torrents, streaming over Harry's hands, flooding the floor.

Riddle was writhing and twisting, screaming and flailing and then... He had gone.

Ivan was smiling.

Harry's wand fell to the floor with a clatter and there was silence. Silence except for the steady 'drip, drip' of ink still oozing from the diary. The basilisk venom had burned a sizzling hole right through it. Shaking all over, Harry pulled himself up. His head was spinning as though he'd just traveled miles by Floo powder. Slowly, he gathered together his wand and the Sorting Hat, and, with a huge tug, retrieved the glittering sword from the roof of the basilisk's mouth.

Then came a faint moan from the end of the Chamber. Ginny was stirring. As Harry hurried toward her, she sat up. Her bemused eyes traveled from the huge form of the

dead basilisk, over Harry, in his blood-soaked robes, then to the diary in his hand. She drew a great, shuddering gasp and tears began to pour down her face.

"Harry-oh, Harry-I tried to tell you at b-breakfast, but I c-couldn't say it in front of Percy-it was me, Harry-but I-I s-swear I d-didn't mean to-R-Riddle made me, he t-took me over-and-how did you kill that-that thing? W-where's Riddle? The last thing I r-remember is him coming out of the diary-"

" It's all right," said Harry, holding up the diary, and showing Ginny the fang hole, "Riddle's finished. Look! Him and the basilisk. C'mon, Ginny, let's get out of here-"

"I'm going to be expelled!" Ginny wept as Harry helped her awkwardly to her feet. "I've looked forward to coming to Hogwarts ever since B-Bill came and n-now I'll have to leave and-w-what'll Mum and Dad say?" Fawkes was waiting for them, hovering in the Chamber entrance.

"Hallo," Ivan said smiling, "No need to be so scared."

His aura accidently scared Ginny, and she shivered.

And then the room began to… shake?

(FACE POV)

"So we still have to fight a Badger?" France asked Blinking.

No one said anything, they all were silent. Until Canada spoke up

"What about The riddle… or poem?" Canada started; "It said if we proved our Loyalty, we wouldn't be treated like Royalty."

"Do you know what it means?" England asked, curious, and all three nations looked at Canada.

"First, we entered the chamber with no problems, we didn't abandon our friends, we stayed to help, and get them through it, proving our Loyalty, but… Now we don't need to move? And we won't be treated like Royalty?"

"So Canada? We just don't move and we win?" America asked, "That's pretty cool, Right England~?

"We don't move?" England asked, "We still have to find the Slytherin's Monster!"

The Ground then began to shake.

"Iggy, you mad, bro?" America asked, referring to the shaking of the ground, and trying to lighten the Gloomy mood everyone was currently in.

"That's not me!" England said.

And the ground under their feat disappeared.

(Russia's POV)

The fight was interesting, but even more interesting was when the room began to shake, The roof caved in and in came England, France, America and Canada.

And they all landed with a 'THUD'.

"Bloody hell!" England shouted as he landed.

"OW!/OUCH!" England/France yelled as France landed on England.

"HEY!/OW!/HAHA SORRY~!" England/France/America shouted as America landed on them.

"Hey America… Wasn't Canada behind you?" England asked from the bottom of the pile, Unable to look up.

"Yea, He's on the top of our Dog pile." America said, managing to point at Canada who was sitting on top of the three laying nations, wondering what had just happened.

"Alright, everyone off." England said, from the bottom of the pile.

Everyone hopped off the Brit, America helped him up.

"Thank you America." England said, as he dusted himself off.

"No problem~!"

"So that's what it meant…" Canada said thinking. "We didn't have to move and it threw us into the main chamber, for the Chamber of secrets. Since we all landed in a dog pile, and thrown into it, that must be what it meant by not being treated like Royalty."*

"It should have just said that." England sighed, looking around, "Whatever you do don-."

"Hallo?" Russia called

"What the! Russia, what are you doing here?" England asked, loudly, and then he looked at the rest of the chamber, Harry was there, along with Ginny Weasley.

**Special shout out to~**

**Box of Tomato Fairy**

**Who gave the idea for Russia Blinding the Basilisk instead of Fawkes~ And Russia looking it in the eye without Dying~!**

*Also Hope you like the Humor part of the poem, And I wonder how long it will take for the nations to realize that it had a different meaning.

The Best Fight was DEFINITLY Ravenclaw~.

Last chapter coming soon~!


	35. Chapter 35 Final Chapter

My Brother has a friend over, Imagine America being loud x 5 and that's how loud it is here…

MY HEAD!

The Final chapter~

Sneak peak for the sequel today or tomorrow.

Harry's POV

"I came with Harry, da." Ivan explained to the confused Arthur.

So the nations, Harry and Ginny made their way back to the normal exit.

"Ron!" Harry yelled, speeding up. "Ginny's okay! I've got her!"

He heard Ron give a strangled cheer, and they turned the next bend to see his eager face staring through the sizable gap he had managed to make in the rock fall.

"Ginny!" Ron thrust an arm through the gap in the rock to pull her through first.

"You're alive! I don't believe it! What happened? How-what-where did that bird come from?"

Fawkes had swooped through the gap after Ginny.

"He's Dumbledore's," said Harry, squeezing through himself

"How come you've got a sword?" said Ron, gaping at the glittering weapon in Harry's hand, as Arthur came through next.

"I'll explain when we get out of here, " said Harry with a sideways glance at Ginny, who was crying harder than ever, America and Canada where through the hole, and where now trying to comfort her.

"But-"

"Later," Harry said shortly. He didn't think it was a good idea to tell Ron yet who'd been opening the Chamber, not in front of Ginny, anyway.

Francis and Ivan were now through the hole, and walked over to the group.

"Where's Lockhart?"

"Back there," said Ron, still looking puzzled but jerking his head up the tunnel toward the pipe. "He's in a bad way. Come and see."

Led by Fawkes, whose wide scarlet wings emitted a soft golden glow in the darkness, they walked all the way back to the mouth of the pipe. Gilderoy Lockhart was sitting there, humming placidly to himself.

"His memory's gone," said Ron, and somehow everyone wasn't surprised. "The Memory Charm backfired. Hit him instead of us. Hasn't got a clue who he is, or where he is, or who we are. I told him to come and wait here. He's a danger to himself"

Lockhart peered good-naturedly up at them all. "Hello," he said. "Odd sort of place, this, isn't it? Do you live here?"

"No," said Ron, raising his eyebrows at Harry. Harry bent down and looked up the long, dark pipe.

"Have you thought how we're going to get back up this?" he said to Ron.

Ron shook his head, but Fawkes the phoenix had swooped past Harry and was now fluttering in front of him, his beady eyes bright in the dark. He was waving his long golden tail feathers. Harry looked un-certainly at him.

"He looks like he wants you to grab hold …" said Ron, looking perplexed. "But you're much too heavyfor a bird to pull up there-"

"Fawkes," said Harry, "isn't an ordinary bird." He turned quickly to the others. "We've got to hold onto each other. Ginny, grab Ron's hand, Matthew grab Ginny's hand, Alfred Matthew's, Alfred's Arthur's, And Arthur grabs Francis' Hand. Professor Lockhart-"

"He means you," said Ron sharply to Lockhart. "You hold Francis' other hand-"

Harry tucked the sword and the Sorting Hat into his belt, Ron took hold of the back of Harry's robes, and Harry reached out and took hold of Fawkes's strangely hot tail feathers. An extraordinary lightness seemed to spread through his whole body and the next second, in a rush of wings, they were flying upward through the pipe.

Harry could hear Lockhart dangling below him, saying, "Amazing! Amazing! This is just like magic!"

The chill air was whipping through Harry's hair, and before he'd stopped enjoying the ride, it was over-all nine of them were hitting the wet floor of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, and as Lockhart straightened his hat, the sink that hid the pipe was sliding back into place. Myrtle goggled at them.

"You're alive," she said blankly to Harry.

"There's no need to sound so disappointed," he said grimly, wiping flecks of blood and slime off his glasses.

"Oh, well... I'd just been thinking... If you had died, you'd have been welcome to share my toilet," said Myrtle, blushing silver.

"Urgh!" said Ron as they left the bathroom for the dark, deserted corridor outside. "Harry! I think Myrtle's grown fond of you! You've got competition, Ginny!"

But tears were still flooding silently down Ginny's face. "Where now?" said Ron, with an anxious look at Ginny. Harry pointed. Fawkes was leading the way, glowing gold along the corridor, Arthur and the others followed. They strode after him, and moments later, found themselves outside Professor McGonagall's office. Harry knocked and pushed the door open.

For a moment there was silence as Harry, Ron, Ginny, Arthur, Alfred, Matthew, Francis, Ivan and Lockhart stood in the doorway, covered in muck and slime and (in Harry's case) blood. Then there was a scream.

"Ginny!"

It was Mrs. Weasley, who had been sitting crying in front of the fire. She leapt to her feet, closely followed by Mr. Weasley, and both of them flung themselves on their daughter. Harry, however, was looking past them.

Professor Dumbledore was standing by the mantelpiece, beaming, next to Professor McGonagall, who was taking great, steadying gasps, clutching her chest. Fawkes went whooshing past Harry's ear and settled on Dumbledore's shoulder, just as Harry found himself and Ron being swept into Mrs. Weasleys tight embrace.

"You saved her! You saved her! How did you do it?"

"I think we'd all like to know that," said Professor McGonagall weakly.

Mrs. Weasley let go of Harry, who hesitated for a moment, then walked over to the desk and laid upon it the Sorting Hat, the ruby-encrusted sword, and what remained of Riddle's diary. Then he started telling them everything. For nearly a quarter of an hour he spoke into the rapt silence: He told them about hearing the disembodied voice, how Hermione had finally realized that he was hear-ing a basilisk in the pipes; how he and Ron had followed the spiders into the forest, that Aragog had told them where the last victim of the basilisk had died; how he had guessed that Moaning Myrtle had been the victim, and that the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets might be in her bathroom...

"Very well," Professor McGonagall prompted him as he paused, "so you found out where the entrance was-breaking a hundred school rules into pieces along the way, I might add-but how on earth did you all get out of there alive, Potter?"

So Harry, his voice now growing hoarse from all this talking, told them about Fawkes's timely arrival and about the Sorting Hat giving him the sword. But then he faltered. He had so far avoided mentioning Riddle's diary-or Ginny. She was standing with her head against Mrs. Weasley's shoulder, and tears were still coursing silently down her cheeks. What if they expelled her? Harry thought in panic. Riddle's diary didn't work anymore... How could they prove it had been he who'd made her do it all?

Instinctively, Harry looked at Dumbledore, who smiled faintly, the firelight glancing off his half-moon spectacles.

"What interests me most," said Dumbledore gently, "is how Lord Voldemort managed to enchant Ginny, when my sources tell me he is currently in hiding in the forests of Albania, and where exactly, you four had come from, and disappeared to."

Relief-warm, sweeping, glorious relief-swept over Harry.

"W-what's that?" said Mr. Weasley in a stunned voice. "You-Know-Who? En-enchant Ginny? But Ginny's not... Ginny hasn't been... Has she?"

"It was this diary," said Harry quickly, picking it up and showing it to Dumbledore. "Riddle wrote it when he was sixteen... "

Dumbledore took the diary from Harry and peered keenly down his long, crooked nose at its burnt and soggy pages.

"Brilliant," he said softly. "Of course, he was probably the most brilliant student Hogwarts has ever seen."

He turned around to the Weasleys, who were looking utterly bewildered. "Very few people know that Lord Voldemort was once called Tom Riddle. I taught him myself, fifty years ago, at Hogwarts. He disappeared after leaving the school... Traveled far and wide... Sank so deeply into the Dark Arts, consorted with the very worst of our kind, underwent so many dangerous, magical transformations, that when he resurfaced as Lord Voldemort, he was barely recognizable. Hardly any-one connected Lord Voldemort with the clever, handsome boy who once Head Boy here. "

"But, Ginny," said Mrs. Weasley. "What's our Ginny got to do with-with-him?"

"His d-diary!" Ginny sobbed. "I've b-been writing in it, and he's been w-writing back all year-"

"Ginny!" said Mr. Weasley, flabbergasted. "Haven't I taught you anything. What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain? Why didn't you show the diary to me, or your mother? A suspicious object like that, it was clearly full of Dark Magic!"

"I d-didn't know," sobbed Ginny. "I found it inside one of the books Mum got me. I th-thought some-one had just left it in there and forgotten about it-"

"Miss Weasley should go up to the hospital wing right away, " Dumbledore interrupted in a firm voice.

"This has been a terrible ordeal for her. There will be no punishment. Older and wiser wizards than she have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort." He strode over to the door and opened it.

"Bed rest and perhaps a large, steaming mug of hot chocolate. I always find that cheers me up," he added, twinkling kindly down at her. "You will find that Madam Pomfrey is still awake. She's just giving out Mandrake juice-I daresay the basilisk's victims will be waking up any moment. "

"So Hermione's okay!" said Ron brightly.

"There has been no lasting harm done, Ginny," said Dumbledore. Mrs. Weasley led Ginny out, and Mr. Weasley followed, still looking deeply shaken.

"And you four?" Dumbledore began, waiting to hear the story.

"The floor caved in." All four said in union.

Dumbledore chuckled, but then seemed serious, "Why was it that you four went after a Lion, Raven and Snake?"

"The Chamber of Secrets." Arthur answered, Dumbledore actually rose an eyebrow.

"It's not the Chamber of secret, it secret's, so naturally there was more than one chamber entrance, and more than one monster." Arthur explained; "Gryffindor's was near their tower, it was a Lion with Midas touch, only modified to be scratch. Second was Ravenclaws it was a-a Raven. That could change form, personality and create illusions. Third was Hufflepuff- well I didn't see it b-."

"It was a Honey Badger that put you under that curse that makes you do stuff you don't wanna, and test you loyalty." Alfred interrupted and smiled.

"Fourth was Slytherin's. A Basilisk, That if you looked in its eyes you died, and if you saw a reflection of its eyes you were petrified." Arthur finished.

"But? Ivan looked it straight in the yes and nothing happened…" Harry said, thinking out loud, almost Every teacher looked at Ivan.

"Shame snake did not want to become one."

(POV NATIONS)

Instead of going to the great hall the nations headed to the room of requirement.

"That was… an interesting year." England sighed.

"Ig- I mean, England?" Alfred asked, sitting down, "Let's come again!"

Before England could respond, Matthew joined, "Definitely, eh!"

Even France and Russia, "Of course I will want to come back, so many charmin- I mean so many charms to learn."

"Everyone will eventually become one, da?"

England sighed, next year. Was going to be a long year.

Especially with the trio having so many reasons to question them…

DONE~.


End file.
